A pair of wheelbarrows were piled upside down at the edge of the clearing. Then he saw it, the steel door in the ground, knowing what it was. Getting low, he crouched behind it so he could use the door like a shield, pull it up a few inches, take a look.
Eddie hurried down the path, branches slapping as he ran, pistol in hand, seeing Beck in the clearing with the bunker’s handle in his hand. Pistol aimed at the ground, Eddie told him to back away, adding, “Please.”
Beck looked at him.
“My shit’s in there.” The pistol shaking in his hand.
Beck shrugged and shifted to the side, pulling the door open a few inches.
Ashika fired a round from below, hitting the steel door, the bullet ricocheting back inside the bunker, Beck dropping the door back down, Eddie getting the point.
“Fuck me.” Eddie dropped the pistol.
Beck slipped his piece in his pocket, went and tipped up the barrows, told Eddie how this would go, the two of them filling the barrows with stones they found in the clearing, Beck parking them on the door.
Ashika called out, wanting to make a deal, trade the coke for her freedom, pounding with her fists.
Eddie saying there was enough blow down there to make them all crazy rich. Beck thought about it, picked up Eddie’s gun, made sure it was empty, handed it to him, then he pulled his cell and punched in a number, getting a signal, saying, “Hey Danny, how much you say that reward was?”
Griff was waiting when they came around the side of the cabin, Eddie still arguing about leaving the coke, Beck reminding Eddie he got to shoot the guy who killed his uncle, smashed his hand.
Eddie tucked his pistol in his belt, shaking his head, looking over at Rudi, wanting to shoot him some more.
Flames showed at every window of the lodge now, the heat intense, the air thick with smoke.
Griff threw a thumb, motioned for them to get into the Jeep, asking, “What about him?” Looking at Axel’s boot sticking from the cabin door.
Beck said he wasn’t going anywhere.
“Fuck him,” Eddie said, pushing the seat up, climbing in back. Bastard helped cut up his uncle.
Beck got in, Griff rolling away from the burning lodge, flames sweeping up the exterior boards.
Griff drove out on the county road, got on the Crowsnest, the smoke rising over the treetops behind them.
Thinking about running the Mañana on his own, Eddie said, “Fuckers on the sub shit in a bucket, you know that?”
“That right?”
“Whole crew and one bucket. Hard to imagine.”
Engine 1 and the command truck passed them, racing the other way, a couple of RCMP cruisers right behind them, all screaming past with lights flashing. Another fire truck racing toward them before they got past Hope.
. . . ROARING FORTIES AND FURIOUS FIFTIES
Roaring, furious and screaming: three latitudes of hell. Two hundred and fifty tons of steel, fifty-six meters long. The SS Suzuki pulled from port, Canadian flag flapping. Grey skies and frozen seas waiting to toss them in southern squalls, waves as tall as buildings.
Beck stood between Griff and Jimmy on the dock, Jimmy’s arm in a sling. The three of them watching the crew hustling, casting off. The word RESEARCH had been painted over, the paint still drying. They waved, Vicki waving back from the upper rail, Nemo and Knut standing with her, all in ANTARCTIC CREW T-shirts.
“Gonna miss her?” Beck asked.
“Girl’s got whales to save,” Jimmy said.
“Told you the Japanese cut out whaling,” Beck said.
Jimmy just grinned.
Captain Angus sounded the horn, a garbled announcement over the ship’s PA.
“Be austral summer by the time they make it down,” Jimmy said. “Minkes’ll be migrating, feeding mainly on krill.”
“That’s vegetarian, right?” Griff said.
“It’s what whales eat,” Jimmy said. “A kind of a shrimp.”
Beck turned, thinking of the reward coming his way, Ashika Shakira worth a hundred grand. Thinking he’d cut Eddie in for a piece. Then there was Jimmy and Griff. The Jeep sat out on Waterfront by the Helijet place, shot to hell with the windows blown out, Jimmy and Griff following him.
Vicki promised to post shots of her doing the polar bear swim — the chick crazy enough to do it, leap off the deck into Antarctic waters, Beck betting she did it in a thong. Sure to end up all over the internet.
“How about we get something to eat? I’m starved,” Griff said, going to the passenger side, Jimmy hobbling behind.
Beck said he was driving by Hattie’s, get her to put on some tea, take care of some unfinished business.
“Oh, nearly forgot . . .” Griff said, digging in a pocket, pulling up a pair of keys twist-tied together. “Told me to tell you, she’s off to Pismo Beach.”
“Hattie?” Beck caught the keys, First Light written on the tag, with a little ink heart.
“Yeah, she left this morning. Her and her ex patching things up.”
“Pismo, huh?”
“Said they’d be back before the springs run.”
Beck regarded the keys, thinking he’d stop off for a bottle.
“Said you can pay her rent, case you feel weird about using her boat.”
Beck pocketed the keys. “Guess we’re back in business.”
“You’re in business. Me, I’m giving my notice.”
“Doing it now?”
“Going to work for Eddie, on the tug, learn about hauling logs.”
Beck just looked at him, finally put out his hand. Griff grinned, shaking his hand.
“What say to a Sloppy Jane, boys?” Jimmy said. “On me. Celebrate with Griff. Give Beck a chance to get to know his new deckhand.” Jimmy pointing a thumb at himself.
“You?”
“Least you can do, right?”
Beck grinned, thinking he might just hit Jimmy yet, Griff asking what the hell a Sloppy Jane was.
“You’ll love ’em, kid,” Jimmy was saying, describing what went into one, looking at the Jeep: bullet hole in the door, another through the dash, the windshield and passenger window gone.
Beck waited for Griff to get in back, Jimmy taking his time, the pain slowing him down. Pulling himself onto the passenger seat, he shut the door. Then Beck pulled away, he and Jimmy looking between the buildings, out at the big ship.
ACKNOWLEDGMENTS
Thank you to my publisher Jack David, and to Crissy Calhoun, Erin Creasey, Jenna Illies, Rachel Ironstone and everyone at ECW. As always, it’s been great working with my editor Emily Schultz. Also, thanks goes to copy editor Peter Norman, and to David Gee for yet another great cover. And to my son, Xander, for always being there and giving this book its first read on very short notice.
ABOUT THE AUTHOR
Triggerfish is Dietrich Kalteis’s third novel. His debut novel, Ride the Lightning, won a bronze medal in the 2015 Independent Publisher Awards. Over forty of his short stories have been published internationally, and his screenplay Between Jobs was a finalist in the Los Angeles Screenplay Festival. He resides with his family in West Vancouver and is currently working on his next novel.
TRY ANOTHER GREAT READ FROM ECW PRESS...
Ride the Lightning A fast, powerful read full of action, twists, and dark humour
Bounty Hunter Karl Morgen goes after Miro Knotts on a skipped bond, finding the dope dealer wrapped around an underaged girl at a rave in Seattle. Dragging Miro in the hard way gets Karl's licence revoked, while Miro gets off with a suspended sentence. Karl then finds work as a process server in Vancouver, thinking it's the kind of place where people settle things with middle fingers instead of guns.
But the city is teeming with two-bit criminals, drug dealers, and gangsters, and Miro seizes an opportunity to settle his score with Karl while working a major drug deal. Wha
t follows is a ride through Vancouver's underbelly with a cast of characters whose ambition exceeds their criminal acumen. With dialogue that crackles on the page, Ride the Lightning introduces a new voice in crime fiction featuring grit, realism, and a comedic touch.
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Copyright © Dietrich Kalteis, 2016
Published by ECW Press
665 Gerrard Street East
Toronto, Ontario, Canada M4M 1Y2
416-694-3348 / [email protected]
All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted in any form by any process — electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwise — without the prior written permission of the copyright owners and ECW Press. The scanning, uploading, and distribution of this book via the Internet or via any other means without the permission of the publisher is illegal and punishable by law. Please purchase only authorized electronic editions, and do not participate in or encourage electronic piracy of copyrighted materials. Your support of the author’s rights is appreciated.
Cover design: David Gee
Cover photo: © hidesy/iStock
Author photo: Andrea Kalteis
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, business establishments, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.
Library and Archives Canada Cataloguing in Publication
Kalteis, Dietrich, author
Triggerfish / Dietrich Kalteis.
Issued in print and electronic formats.
ISBN 978-1-77041-153-1 (paperback)
Also issued as: 978-1-77090-830-7 (PDF)
978-1-77090-831-4 (ePUB)
I. TITLE.
PS8621.A474T75 2016 C813’.6 C2015-907268-9
C2015-907269-7
The publication of Triggerfish has been generously supported by the Canada Council for the Arts which last year invested $153 million to bring the arts to Canadians throughout the country, and by the Government of Canada through the Canada Book Fund. Nous remercions le Conseil des arts du Canada de son soutien. L’an dernier, le Conseil a investi 153 millions de dollars pour mettre de l’art dans la vie des Canadiennes et des Canadiens de tout le pays. Ce livre est financé en partie par le gouvernement du Canada. We also acknowledge the Ontario Arts Council (OAC), an agency of the Government of Ontario, which last year funded 1,709 individual artists and 1,078 organizations in 204 communities across Ontario, for a total of $52.1 million, and the contribution of the Government of Ontario through the Ontario Book Publishing Tax Credit and the Ontario Media Development Corporation.
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