After The Fires Went Out: Coyote atfwo-1 Page 4

  “Ready to go for what?” Fiona asked.

  “For Stems,” Justin said.

  “Three guys,” I said. “Not exactly an army. And how are you even getting in touch with Detour Lake anyway? Last time I checked they don’t like using the radio.”

  “No,” Fiona said. “You shouldn’t be talking to them. Sara says ―”

  “You shouldn’t listen to Sara,” Justin said.

  “We’re not talking to them,” I said. “At least I’m not.”

  I heard footsteps on the stairs. I turned to see Sara and I wondered how much she’d heard.

  “Good morning, Justin,” she said with a smile. “Brought your dirty boots in, I see.”

  “Uh, sorry,” he said.

  “What were you guys talking about?”

  “Nothing important.”

  “They were talking about Stems,” Fiona said. “I guess Justin doesn’t want you included.”

  “And you’re doing this here?” Sara asked. “Are you joking?”

  “Kayla isn’t here,” Matt said. “She’s out at the old Williams cottage, cleaning up Ant’s shed or whatever.”

  “Alone?” I asked.

  “With the dogs.”

  “It’s not just Kayla I’m worried about,” Sara said. “Frankly, I don’t want to hear about Stems, either.”

  Justin shook his head. “We can’t just stick our heads in the sand,” he said.

  “We talked about this,” I said. “And we’re done talking about it.”

  Justin laughed. “That’s right. King Baptiste has spoken. No more talking about Ryan Stems. No more talking about what a goddamn joke the Supply Partnership has become. No more talking about how we hand over the best stuff we scavenge and get fucking bupkis back. All hail the great King Baptiste.”

  “You need to leave, Justin,” Sara said.

  “Don’t worry…I don’t mean to pick a fight. I won’t beat up your old man.”

  “She’s more worried about what I’ll do,” I said. “More than half this district would cheer me on if I hanged you from the yard light.”

  “More than half this district is dead. All I ever did was save a few lives.”

  “Get out,” Sara said. “Now.”

  Justin gave another chuckle before getting off the couch and making his way toward the porch.

  “I’ll take the coyote, I guess,” he said. “I was kind of hoping Fiona would cook something up for us.”

  “Cook it up yourself,” Fiona said.

  For some reason that made me laugh.

  The rain outside was getting heavy after breakfast so we decided to stay in for a few hours in the hope that it would lighten up eventually. All of us except for Kayla, who went back to Ant’s shed despite the rain.

  Kayla’s taken Ant’s death the hardest, I think. They’d been friends from before The Fires, back when Ant was a new-in-town metal fab apprentice and Kayla danced at Fleshy’s Inn. I think Ant was the first guy to take her seriously. Maybe that’s why she won’t let go of him.

  Matt and Fiona went down to the basement to sort through a few so-far-unchecked boxes that we’d pulled from a shed up Kennedy Road, while Sara and Lisa decided to sort through Ant’s stuff.

  I’ve heard that parents who suddenly lose a child often leave their child’s room untouched afterwards, sometimes for years. Now it’s true that what I’ve heard may just be a pile of crap, and obviously Ant’s not my kid, but it doesn’t feel right to me for Sara and Lisa to be pulling out his clothes and stacking them on the bed in piles.

  And it certainly doesn’t feel right to have Graham standing by the door, licking his lips and hoping for a chance to take his old room back.

  We need more time. The world needs to hold on for a little longer before things are allowed to start up again.

  “Most of the shirts can work,” Lisa said, “but the pants would be too short for Matt.”

  “They might fit Fiona,” Sara said.

  “I think we all have enough clothes,” I said as I sat in Ant’s old desk chair, flipping through some of his half-drawn comics; I know he had folders of finished work somewhere, but I wouldn’t be surprised if Kayla or Fiona had already swept in to grab them.

  “We’ll show them to her, at least,” Sara said to Lisa, not paying any notice to me.

  Lisa held up a red hoodie with a long-fanged cobra. “Someone’s going to want this,” she said. She tossed it over to Sara.

  It looked just like the hoodie Ant was wearing when he was shot. The one we’d buried him in.

  “I want it,” Sara said as she started to fold it. “But I don’t really get first dibs, do I?”

  “Kayla will want it,” Lisa said.

  “I think Fiona might want it, too,” I said.

  She’d always looked up to Ant. It wasn’t just that both of them like to think of themselves as artists; Ant had a way of making everyone feel wanted, and that’s something Fiona always needs a little more of.

  “Good thing those two share a room,” Sara said. “That’ll postpone the decision for a few months at least.”

  “It’ll work itself out,” Lisa said. “One of them will shoot the other soon enough.” She seemed to catch herself right after she spoke, looking over at Sara and then to me.

  I’m sure Sara caught it; I saw a little ripple of pain wash over her.

  “I wonder if Matt will be okay without a roommate,” Sara said.

  “He’ll get used to it,” I said. “We’ll all get used to it.”

  “He asked me to move his stuff out,” Graham said from his corner. “I don’t think he wants to stay in here by himself.”

  “That’s convenient,” I said, not really thinking about what I was saying.

  “What’s that supposed to mean?”

  “It doesn’t mean anything. I just don’t get all of the rushing around.”

  “He doesn’t want to stay in this room,” Lisa said. “Seems like a simple concept to me.”

  I shook my head. “Whatever…just pack Matt’s shit up, then.”

  “That’s what I’m planning on doing,” Graham said. He sounded like a whiny little bitch.

  “Then just fucking do it.”

  I looked over to Sara, expecting one of her glares of disapproval, but she hadn’t been listening. She was standing by Ant’s bed, still gripping the red hoodie; she’d long stopped trying to fold it.

  I started to sigh, but stopped once I realized it. I’d known this cleanup operation was a bad idea. Now Sara was falling back into it again. I heard her sniff a little before she started crying.

  I wanted to pull her over to me. I wanted to comfort her. But she can’t keep doing this in front of everyone. She needs to be stronger than that.

  “I’m going to check for some more boxes,” I said.

  I left the room as quickly as I could. I didn’t want to risk getting sucked into that mood.

  Someone has to hold us together. Someone has to move us along.

  For some reason it always has to be me.

  I found Matt and Lisa arguing by the wiring trench behind the cottage.

  Well, there was no trench yet, actually, since they hadn’t started digging it. They’d been out there for over an hour, and it looked clear to me that nothing had been done.

  There was little worry we’d have the solar plant set up anytime soon.

  “You’ll settle this, Baptiste,” Lisa said as I came over. “Matt wants to dig the whole trench by hand.”

  “By shovel,” Matt said. “I’m not an idiot.”

  “I have trouble believing that you’re in favour of more work,” I told him.

  “Well, we can’t afford the fuel for the bobcat.”

  “But we’re doing this to get more power,” Lisa said. “That’s the big priority, isn’t it?”

  I wanted to take her side. I really, really want to. But I couldn’t.

  “I think Matt’s right,” I said. “We’re almost out of diesel, and Detour Lake won’t be making their shipmen
t until the spring.”

  “Assuming we get any of it,” Matt said. “Which I doubt.”

  “Just shut up,” I told him. He was right about our chances. “I’m sorry, Lisa, but we need to conserve what we have. We have way more wood and propane than diesel, so if the plant takes a little longer we can manage.”

  Lisa was staring at me, but I couldn’t tell what she was thinking. For some reason it’s impossible to know what Lisa is thinking until she opens her mouth or starts kicking your ass.

  I waited a little longer.

  “We’re going to need more help,” Lisa said. “I can’t dig this trench by myself.”

  “I’m here,” Matt said.

  “Like I said…I can’t do it by myself.”

  “What about Graham?” I asked. “Where’s he? Out fluffing the goats?”

  “Who gives a crap where he is?” she said. “He’s almost as useless as this idiot.”

  “Hey,” Matt said.

  “I’ll help,” I said. “I mean, I can’t every day…Graham and I are going into town tomorrow to find batteries for this thing…but I’ll do what I can.”

  “I guess that’s the best we can do,” Lisa said.

  “Uh…thanks.”

  She nodded.

  Sometimes I wonder what it is about Lisa that makes me trust her the most.

  Sara disappeared just before dinner again, like she had on Sunday after Matt had brought Ant home. I knew she was hiding up in Lisa’s bedroom. She still likes to think she shares a room with Lisa whenever she doesn’t want to share a bed with me. When that happens I’m never sure if it’s because she’s angry with me or if it’s the only way she knows I’ll leave her alone.

  That last time she’d ended up staying in there all night, not appearing again until after we’d finished breakfast. I didn’t want that to happen again.

  I knocked on the door but she didn’t answer. I opened it slowly, trying to make my intrusion seem a little more polite.

  She was lying on her old bed, the blankets pulled up to her shoulders.

  “You just left,” she said.

  “I’m sorry,” I said. I meant it. “I didn’t want to get carried away with all of it.”

  “What the hell does that mean?”

  “We need to be strong.”

  “Are you kidding me? Seriously?”

  “What?”

  “You need to support me, alright?”

  I sat down on the bed beside her, running my hand through her half-curled hair. “I’m sorry…I should have stayed.”

  “Damn right you should have stayed,” she said. “Christ…no one needs to see you acting like a goddamn robot. I know you’re hurting, Baptiste.”

  I shook my head. I tried not to cry.

  “It shouldn’t have happened,” I said. “I should’ve been there to keep him safe.”

  “He was the one who chose not to be safe…that was Ant…not you.” She brought up her hand and squeezed my thigh. She’d forgotten who was supposed to be doing the comforting.

  “Do you think we made the right choice?” I asked her.

  “We took him in and gave him a family,” she said with a hint of a smile. “Ant was happy.”

  “I don’t mean that…I mean by staying here. Maybe if we’d made the trip out over the summer we’d be down in Temiskaming or somewhere, and Ant would be out spray-painting stop signs and humping fire hydrants.”

  “We made the right choice,” she said. “Staying here meant bringing in the Porters and the Tremblays, maybe saving their lives. As much as Justin pisses me off sometimes, I’m glad he’s here and that he’s on our side.”

  “That doesn’t mean it was the right choice.”

  “Bad things happen. And they’ll happen no matter what.” She sat up and leaned in against me. “At least Ant wasn’t alone when it happened.”

  “He was with Matt.”

  “Yeah, with Matt…his friend. And the rest of us are still here, Baptiste. And we’re doing okay.”

  “For now…”

  “No…we’re not doing that. No more doom and gloom…”

  “We’re running out of fuel,” I said.

  “We’ll talk to the Walkers. Or the Smiths…they must have some to share. They owe us for the extra eggs we’ve been sending them.”

  They owed us for far more than that.

  “That’s not how it works,” I said. “No one shares fuel.”

  “We’ll find a way,” she said. Her voice didn’t waver as she said it. “You’ll figure it out, Baptiste. You always have and you always will.”

  I smiled; I was tired of talking about it, of fishing for reinforcement. It’s not like I could just wave my hand and lose the guilt I feel about Ant…or about everything else.

  “We’re lucky to have you,” she said.

  “You’re just sweet-talking me…”

  She pursed her lips. “Is it working?”

  I nodded.

  “You’re an easy man to please, Baptiste.”

  “And you’re the perfect piece of tail to do it.”

  She giggled a little as she leaned over and kissed me.

  I kissed her back and wrapped my right hand around the back of her neck, drawing her closer to me. And then I kissed her neck, listening to the slow deepening of each breath.

  “I love you,” she said.

  “I love you…” I kissed her neck some more.

  She moaned and it shot right through me.

  I made sure to move us to the right bedroom.

  Today is Friday, December 7th.

  The weather was good, so Graham and I went into Cochrane today in the old grain truck. We skipped the weekly meeting and we did our best to put whatever shit’s between us on hold.

  Graham drove the truck and I was on lookout, both of us wearing as much protective gear as we have. If we know we’re crossing the river, we’ll start off with our riot suits; they’re light enough that it’s not that bad wearing them, except for a few hot weeks we had in July and August now that the sun’s back. And once we cross the West Gate, the one on the road bridge, we’ll strap our vests on over our suits and we’ll throw on the helmets and goggles. It’s a lot to wear, especially when we’re lifting and hauling, but there’s a big advantage to being some of the best equipped guys coming into Cochrane.

  We reached the outskirts of town, passing by the industrial buildings along the highway as it runs along the tracks and into town.

  “So…best place for batteries?” Graham asked. He was obviously eager to get started.

  “I need to look for more pills first,” I said. “I want to check Lady Minto again…just to be sure.”

  “You’re serious? That’s all the way across town.”

  “I’m serious. If we leave it for last we’ll run out of time.”

  Graham winced like I’d kicked him in the nuts. “You can’t just spring this on me, Baptiste. Plus…don’t you think we should focus on what’s best for the whole team?”

  “Don’t tell me my job,” I said.

  “That’s not your job, Baptiste. Your job is security, not supplies.”

  “Well…when I die in six months I’ll be taking on a new job as weed fertilizer. That sure as hell won’t do you guys any good.”

  Graham shook his head. “You have pills for now. We don’t have enough batteries.”

  I laughed. “There are probably three hundred car batteries left in this town. We can pull those out once we’re done checking the hospital again.”

  Graham started slowing down.

  “We’re going to the hospital,” I said.

  “There are a half dozen school buses over there,” Graham said, pointing toward a gravel lot on the south side of the highway. “Let’s yank those batteries at least…just to get started.”

  “You can yank whatever you like, Graham. But I’m taking this truck up to Lady Minto with or without you.”

  He turned to glare at me. I assume it was a glare; all I could see was his helmet. />
  “I’m not kidding,” I said.

  Graham seethed a little, but eventually he gave me a long sigh and a slow shake of his head. “It’s selfish,” he said quietly.

  “That’s your opinion.”

  He started us moving again, not saying anything more about it. I could tell that he was pissed, and I knew that he’d probably run right to Lisa when we got home to tell her what a big bad asshole I am. It doesn’t make a difference what he says about me; he’ll keep mumbling but we’ll keep working, because that’s really all there’s left for us to do.

  Graham pulled us into the empty parking lot of burnt-out Lady Minto.

  Beside a curb we found her.

  The first body of the season if you don’t count Ant.

  She’d been pretty once, early twenties, with short brown hair and thick purple-rimmed glasses, but her face was bruised and battered now. Someone had beaten her to death and I didn’t know why.

  “Pauline Yarrow,” I said. “Wasn’t she shacked up with the McIvors?”

  I wasn’t as horrified as I ought to be. As I used to be with this type of thing.

  “I thought the McIvors left,” Graham said.

  “They did. Over a month ago. Guess she decided to stay behind.”

  I heard Graham sigh. I looked over and saw tears in his eyes. At least one of us still felt something.

  I looked at the trail of blood that marked a path behind her.

  “Looks like she stumbled over here from somewhere. She’s been here a couple hours,” I said, realizing that I’d become an expert on dead people.

  “She thought she’d find help at an abandoned hospital?”

  “I guess she wasn’t thinking straight. You know, since she was slowly bleeding to death.”

  Although it was possible that she’d been hoping to find something to treat herself, like bandages or painkillers. If we’d left before sunrise we might even have found her before the end.

  “I wish we had time to give her a proper burial,” Graham said.

  “I wish we had time to figure out who killed her.” I climbed down from the cart. “Are you going to come in and help me look for supplies?”

  “I don’t need any heart pills.”

  “Maybe we’ll find some pills that’ll make you into less of a whiny bitch.”