After The Fires Went Out: Coyote (Book One of the Post-Apocalyptic Adventure Series) (73 page)

She reached back down and brought up a length of blue and white rope.

I think it was the same rope we’d used on Elodie.

“I want you to tie me up just like you did her,” she said.

“What?”

“Pretend I’m her... pretend you need to restrain me... that you need to gag me with that scarf so I don’t scream for help.”

“I don’t think I’m comfortable with this.”

“
S’il vous plaite
... please don’t tie me up...”

There was something about the way she was looking at me. That fake pleading in your eyes that was close to making me laugh.

It was pretty damn sexy.

I guess knowing that I could make it happen for her... knowing that she wanted something that only I could give her...

I pushed her down on her stomach.

I tied her wrists.

I brought up her ankles.

I tied her arms and legs together.

“The scarf,” she said, almost breathless.

I picked up her pink scarf. The same one that I’d stuffed so violently in Elodie’s mouth.

The knot was still tied. Kayla hadn’t done anything to clean it.

I forced it into her mouth and tied it around her head.

I heard her moan.

I sat back and watched her struggle.

She tried to say something; I couldn’t quite understand.

She tried again.

“Touch you?”

She nodded.

I slowly lifted her tight black t-shirt.

I ran a couple of my fingers along her side, giving her a light tickle right down her hips.

Her body jerked. She moaned again.

I moved my fingers between her legs, gently nudging her onto her side.

I brought my head down and kissed her just above the place where I had my fingers.

I kissed her some more.

Kayla had never climaxed that quickly before.

Her entire body buckled, like a series of jolts were rushing through her.

She tried to say something else.

I took a guess.

I untied her ankles and spread her legs apart.

And then I took her.

It was the best sex we’d ever had.

It was the best sex I’d ever had.

So far.

Afterward I was about to take out the scarf, but she shook her head.

“Leave it in?” I asked.

She nodded.

I wrapped my arms around her.

And I told her that I loved her.

12

Today is Sunday, January 20th.

I told Matt that it was time to come home, that he was starting to get creepy with his new life as Justin’s shadow.

He didn’t argue; I think maybe he had a feeling that if he kept at it, Justin might tell him the same thing. I’m not sure Matt could survive that shame.

It was warm today, warm enough that I had no qualms about helping Kayla with the outside chores, and I even split a little firewood with Matt as a sign that I was glad to have him back. I didn’t mean it, but I did it anyway.

Fiona dropped by in the afternoon to invite herself over for dinner. Sometimes I wonder if she’s as frightened of Gwyneth as Gwyneth is of me. I don’t think Fiona can even imagine living in fear that way, no matter what she’s seen over the years; there’s just too much sunlight in Fiona. That’s why I miss her so much these days.

The four of us sat down for dinner around the pinewood table, bunched on one side and leaving the other half to four empty chairs.

We did that thing people do when they’re trying too hard to not be sad, laughing at jokes that aren’t funny and being freakishly kind to one another.

I know we all miss them. Not just Ant and Sara, but Lisa and Graham, no matter how they left.

Tonight is the first night in over twenty years that I’ve come close to praying.

I came close, but I couldn’t make it all the way.

I just hope they made it through.

I can’t imagine how they could have.

Today is Monday, January 21st.

We couldn’t smell the smoke from our end of the lake. We didn’t hear a sound as the last cottage along Nelson Road burnt to the ground.

We didn’t know what happened until Justin Porter came to our door and woke us up, yelling my name.

“I can’t reach them,” he said. “I need help.”

“What’s going on?” I asked.

“I can’t reach them... help me, Baptiste.”

“Okay.”

I followed him as he ran through the snow. He was only wearing one shoe. He tripped more than once.

It wasn’t long before I saw the smoke.

“Oh... fuck...” I said.

“They’re inside... I need help...”

I sped up and overtook him. Why had he come all that way? He should have stayed with them...

When I reached the house, there wasn’t a part of it that wasn’t on fire. The flames had started to leap onto a nearby stand of tamarack.

I didn’t have anything to stop it.

I grabbed my tablet from my pocket and called Kayla. “Porters... their cottage is on fire,” I said.

“We’re coming.” That’s all I’d needed her to say.

I saw Rihanna lying in the snow. I wasn’t sure she was still alive.

I couldn’t see the kids.

Justin came up beside me.

“Help her,” he said. “I need to find my kids.”

I wanted to hold him back, but I knew he’d probably just punch me in the nose.

I stood by and let him try.

He started at the front door. The heat was too much.

He ran around to the back.

Then he came back to the front.

“I need to get in there,” he said.

“You can’t,” I said.

He climbed on top of the small stack of wood by the kitchen window. He reached for the window frame.

He jumped back down.

“The cellar,” he said.

He ran to the cellar door.

I took out my SIG and joined him.

It took two shots to get the lock open.

We grabbed a handle each and pulled.

The heat was bad, but not as bad.

“Maybe they’re down here,” he said. “Keeping down, below the smoke.”

“Maybe...”

He started down the stairs.

I followed him. It was possible; at thirteen or so, the girl was old enough to try.

Justin called for them, his voice uneven.

I called for them, too.

We each took a side and circled around the entire basement. I peered around the stacks of supplies, even opened an old armoire that was probably too small anyway.