by Shay Savage
He meows, unfazed, and continues to knead me. I stroke his fur, noting how much softer it is now. He looks like a regular kitten and not like a half-starved runt. He decides to crawl onto my shoulder and stretch out across my neck. He actually makes a pretty good scarf, and I drift off for a while.
I’m pulled from my sleep by Seri jumping up to make another bathroom trip. When she comes out, she’s pale. She shuffles over to the fire with her hand over her stomach.
“You okay?” I ask as I sit up, forgetting about the cat. Solo tumbles down my chest, rights himself, and then struts off as if nothing happened.
Seri nods her head but continues to wince. I bring her a glass of water, which she drinks without hesitation, but she still looks pale.
“I think I might have a bit of a stomach bug,” she says with a slight grin. “Just my luck, huh?”
“I’ll get you some more water.”
“I’m sorry,” Seri says.
“Nothing to be sorry about.”
“It’s embarrassing. I hate being sick, especially in front of someone else.”
“Lie down,” I tell her. “Get some rest. You’ll probably feel better soon.”
Seri drops onto the bed and pulls the blanket up around her. I check out the fish we’ve been eating, wondering if it might have gotten contaminated, but it looks and smells just fine. I also feel fine, so I doubt whatever is wrong with Seri has to do with what she ate.
An hour later, she’s burning up with fever.
“Drink this.” I hand her another glass of water and help her sit up to drink it.
“I’m sorry,” she mumbles. “Like you haven’t done enough for me.”
“Stop apologizing for shit you can’t control.” I take the glass away and lower her back onto the pillow. “Do you want to try to eat anything?”
Seri shakes her head. I grab the small, round table by the chair and move it next to the bed.
“I’m going to leave the water here,” I tell her. “Drink it all, okay?”
“I’ll try.”
Within minutes, she’s rushing back to the bathroom. Time goes by, and she doesn’t come out.
“Seri?” No answer. “Seri!”
When she still doesn’t answer me, I open the door to find her on her knees in front of the toilet, nearly unconscious.
“No, don’t…”
Ignoring her, I pick her up and take her back to the bed. She’s sweating and her skin feels clammy. I tip over the bucket of kindling, emptying it onto the floor before bringing it to the side of the bed so Seri doesn’t have to get up. Every few minutes, I force a little more water into her, but she can’t keep it down.
The next morning, she isn’t any better. Her skin is practically grey. She can’t keep anything down, and I know she’s in trouble. I make sure she has access to the water and the bucket, and I leave some crackers in a small bowl for her. Once everything is set out, I start getting my winter gear on.
“Where are you going?” Seri asks. Her voice is weak.
“I’ve got to get the Jeep started,” I say. “I’m going into Whatì to get you some medicine.”
Chapter 19
After an hour of digging the Jeep out of the snow and charging up the battery, the Jeep starts with a final twist of the key. The engine roars, and I sigh audibly. I get it in low gear and slowly make my way through the snow.
Once I get on the road, traveling is much easier, and I can pick up speed. Whatì is only another mile and a half, and I make it to the health clinic in reasonably good time, considering the conditions. Inside, I find Amanda, a nurse and friend of Margot’s.
“Bishop? Is that you?” Amanda bounces over, and her straight black hair threatens to fall from the loose bun on top of her head. Her nametag is crooked, but her smile is broad.
“Yeah.”
“Are you all right?”
“I need antibiotics. Something for fever.”
“Fever?” Amanda steps up and places the back of her hand on my forehead. “You look all right. Let me take you back and get your vitals. I thought you never got sick!”
“It’s not for me.” I take a deep breath. I probably should have planned a story of some sort or at least faked being sick, but I’d been more concerned with just getting Seri medicine, and it’s too late now. “Someone out at my place. She fell through a bit of ice at the edge of the marsh. I got her warmed up, but now she’s sick. I didn’t want to risk bringing her.”
“She?” Amanda raises an eyebrow. “Anyone I know?”
“No, just a tourist who got stuck in the storm. I think maybe she got pneumonia or something.”
“You can’t contract pneumonia by getting cold. If she fell into the marsh, she’s more likely to have caught a parasite. We should see her in person.”
“I didn’t want to risk taking her out. I didn’t know if my Jeep was even going to make it here and back.”
“That’s why we have snowmobiles. I can’t give her the right medicine until I know what she has.”
I don’t like the idea of taking Amanda back to my cabin, but I don’t seem to have another choice. I join her on the back of a snowmobile, and we head off. When we reach the cabin, Seri is in the bathroom and Solo is just outside the door, complaining about being locked out.
Seri seems barely aware of Amanda’s presence and doesn’t complain when the nurse checks her out.
“I’m pretty sure it’s Beaver Fever,” Amanda says when she turns back to me. “It’s a silly name but a nasty parasitic infection. It causes vomiting, diarrhea, and fever. It’s pretty common in fresh water.”
“Is it deadly?” I ask.
“From dehydration, possibly, but she’s not terribly dehydrated. Push the fluids. She’ll need specific medicine for it, but the clinic has the right prescription in stock. We get outbreaks every few years but usually not until the spring thaw.”
I make sure Seri has enough water before I leave her for the trip back.
“Are you going to tell me who she is?” Amanda asks as we head back to the snowmobile.
“No.”
“How long is she going to stay with you?”
“I don’t know!” I tense as a wave of images floods through my head—everything from beating Amanda unconscious to finding my axe and killing her in the snow. The thoughts catch me off guard, and I squeeze my eyes shut until I can force those notions from my head and try to figure out what brought them on.
I’ve become accustomed to Seri’s presence in my life. Violent images don’t flow through my head like they once did, and I’m grateful for it. Apparently, that shift in thinking doesn’t extend to others. The only real problem is that I have no desire to answer Amanda’s questions. I know she’s just going to relay to Margot whatever she learns as soon as she gets the chance. I take a deep breath to calm myself before I speak again.
“I appreciate your help, though.”
“We all help each other.” Amanda has no idea what’s been running through my head, and that’s definitely for the best.
I climb on behind her, and she revs the snowmobile back to life. We zip across the snow, and I’m glad for the engine noise—it keeps chatter to a minimum. When we arrive back at the clinic, Amanda questions me again, but I don’t tell her anything.
Amanda finally relents and heads off to get the meds. As I wait by the counter, a man walks in. He’s wearing decidedly American winter gear, but he doesn’t look like a tourist ready for ice fishing. He has a dark, full beard and unkempt curly hair. He addresses the woman at the front desk.
“Good afternoon,” the man says as he leans heavily on the counter. “I’m hoping you can help me out.”
“What can I do for you?”
“Have you seen this woman?” I glance sideways as he places a photograph on the counter. “She’s been missing for some time, and I’ve managed to trace her to Fort Providence but no sign of her after that. Her family back in the States is worried.”
The picture the man has place
d on the counter is, without a doubt, the woman in my cabin.
“Her name is Iris McGuire,” the man says. “She’s been missing for three months now.”
All my arm hairs stand up on end as he keeps talking about how long he’s been looking for Iris and how worried her loved ones are about her. The receptionist tells him there is no one matching her description at the hospital and promises to let him know if she hears anything.
“Don’t let him kill us.”
As he places a business card on the counter, I take a closer look at him. He’s definitely trying to look like a cop, which means he probably isn’t one. I try to read some of the information on the leaflet, but the print is too small, and I don’t want to be obvious.
I must have stared too long because the man suddenly turns to me and stares straight into my eyes.
“You’ve seen her.” It’s not a question.
“I think I did,” I say with a shrug. “It was a while ago.”
“Was she here?”
“At the clinic? No.” I don’t have time to come up with a feasible lie, so I go with a partial truth. Partial truths can be verified but still won’t give any real information. “Right before the snows started, I saw someone who looks like her at Broken Toy’s. She was looking for a ride.”
“Did you give her one?”
“No.” I scowl at him. “I don’t have time for that crap. I bought her some donuts and left.”
“Donuts?”
“She was hungry.” I shrug, hoping to appear nonchalant. “There were a couple of tourists in the shop. Maybe they picked her up. Kirk would know.”
“Kirk?”
“He runs The Broken Toy’s Gas and Goods just northeast of town.”
“I’ll check that out, Mister…?”
“Bishop.”
“Mr. Bishop, thank you.”
The man takes his leaflet and heads toward the door just as Amanda comes back with a prescription and instructions.
“Definitely keep her hydrated,” she says. She holds up another package. “This might help as well. It says it’s for kids, but it’s good for adults, too.”
She hands me the medication along with six bottles of electrolyte fluids.
“Thanks for your help.” I glance around nervously, but the man has left.
“Do you want to take one of the snowmobiles back?” she asks.
“Nah, I’ll be all right. If I get stuck, I’ll manage.”
“All right,” Amanda says. She gives me a big smile. “I’ll tell Margot you said hi.”
“I’d rather you didn’t.” Amanda opens her mouth to say something, but I stop her. “Seriously, let’s just keep this between us, all right? I know Margot means well, but I don’t need her checking up on me.”
“If you say so,” Amanda mutters, and I scowl at her. “Fine. I won’t say anything.”
“Thanks. Do I owe you anything for this?”
“Don’t worry about it.”
“I’ll bring you some gas for the snowmobiles when I can.”
“Sounds good.”
Outside, I see the same guy again. He’s leaning up against a large SUV with big tires, talking to the man in the driver’s seat. I take a roundabout way to my Jeep to get a little closer to them.
“She’s been here,” he says. “She was spotted north of town.”
“You think she’s still around?” the driver asks.
“She couldn’t have gotten much farther in the winter,” the man says. “She has to be somewhere in the area.”
“She could have gotten a ride to Yellowknife. If she did, we’ll have trouble locating her.”
“I don’t think she did,” the man says. “I have a feeling she’s close by. This is a close-knit community with lots of good Samaritans around here. Someone would have taken her in for the winter. You know how well Iris can manipulate people.”
“I thought that’s why you liked her.” The driver laughs as the other man glares at him. “Anywhere else you want to check out here?”
“Let’s try the gas station first.”
As he walks around the car to get in the passenger side, he looks up and makes eye contact with me. I look away quickly, but I know he saw me looking at them.
“Shit,” I mutter as I get into the Jeep.
I sit for a few minutes, pretending to look through the bag Amanda gave me. When I see the men drive off, I follow slowly. With so few vehicles on the streets, it’s not difficult to keep track of them, and I realize that means they can keep track of me, even if I’m behind them. I turn off down a side street and park for a moment.
“He’ll find us. He always finds us.”
I have no idea who those guys are, but I don’t like the thought of anyone looking for Iris, and therefore also for Seri. The whole encounter has left me unnerved, and I have no doubt that these guys are dangerous, but who are they? How do they know Iris? Do they even know about Seri at all?
Seri said she and Iris looked a lot alike. Is it possible that these guys don’t know Iris is dead, and they are looking for the wrong woman? The picture I saw was definitely Seri—I am sure of that—but if she and Iris did look alike, they could be tracking the wrong person.
A tap on my window nearly causes me to jump out of my skin.
“Bishop! I knew that was you!”
I roll the window down with a sigh and look into a very familiar round face framed with wisps of straight black hair. I try to offer Margot a reasonably genuine-looking smile.
“Hey,” I say.
“Hey, yourself. I wasn’t expecting to see you around.”
“Unexpected trip.”
“Did you actually run out of something you couldn’t live without,” she asks, “or are you finally going to admit that it’s a little lonely out there?”
“No, I, ah…” Shit. I’m a horrible liar. I can’t come up with stories on the fly, and Margot knows me too well to be fooled by anything I say. “I had to go to the clinic.”
“Bishop?” She sounds genuinely concerned as she leans against the window and points at the bag on the passenger’s seat. “What’s wrong? Are you sick?”
“No.”
She tilts her head to one side. She has that look on her face that says she isn’t going to let this go. I’m familiar with how long she can drag out a conversation when she wants to, and I realize I need someone to talk to about this, as strange as that is for me.
“Can you get in the car for a minute?”
“Sure.” She eyes me for a second before heading around the Jeep. She moves the bag with Seri’s medicine to the dashboard and sits in the passenger seat. “Bishop, what’s going on? You have me worried.”
“I might need some help.”
“You are asking for help?” Margot leans back in the seat and folds her arms.
“Don’t be shitty. I’m feeling a little desperate.”
“Sorry,” she says. “You caught me off guard. You never want help.”
“I didn’t say I wanted it,” I mumble.
“Bishop, seriously”—she reaches over and places her hand on my arm—“you know you can count on me, no matter what. If you’ve run out of supplies, you can always move back in with me for a while. I wouldn’t turn you away.”
“It’s not that.” I shake my head. “Really, I’m not sure what it is.”
“I think you have a story to tell,” Margot says as she continues to look at me.
I stare out the windshield as I gather my thoughts. I’m unfamiliar with the protocol for discussing the woman I’m currently sleeping with to a former girlfriend, and I’m not sure how much I want to divulge to my ex in any case. But I need help, and I need an ally. Margot is the only person in my life who even comes close to fitting that description.
“I met this woman a couple of weeks ago.” I think about it for a minute. “Not even that long—twelve days or so—right before the storm hit. She tried to hitch a lift to Yellowknife, but got dumped on the side of the road.”
“Dumped?”
“Yeah. Two asshole tourists. They don’t matter.” I take a deep breath. “She was unconscious when I found her, so I took her back to my cabin. I mean, what else was I supposed to do?”
Margot raises an eyebrow at me.
“It wasn’t like that,” I say quickly. I feel my cheeks burning, and I realize from the look on Margot’s face that she already knows. “Not at first, anyway.”
“Uh huh. Is she still there?”
“Yeah,” I say, “but she got sick. Amanda checked her out and says it’s a parasite. She gave me the right meds, and I was about to head back to the cabin when I met this guy. He was asking questions and showing her picture around. He’s looking for her.”
“Who is he?”
“I didn’t get a name, but he said her family was looking for her.”
“Did you tell him where she was?”
“No.” I shake my head. “Something just didn’t feel right. I don’t think he wants to help her. I think maybe she’s running away from him.”
“You think he’s going to hurt her?”
“I don’t know, but I don’t like it. Whatever he’s doing here, I don’t think he has her best interests in mind. She, um…she said something about someone looking for her, but I don’t know any details.”
“She kept this from you.”
“Maybe.” I bite my lip for a moment before I look back at Margot. “It’s not really that simple. She might not know someone is looking for her.”
“Might not know?” Margot narrows her eyes. “Who do you think this guy is?”
“Not sure. Maybe an ex-boyfriend. He’s not someone she’s told me about, I’m pretty sure of that.”
“Feeling jealous?” Margot smirks. “And to think I was convinced you couldn’t feel anything.”
A brief image of punching Margot in the face flashes through my mind, but I keep it at bay.
“Stop it, Margot.” I don’t mean to snap at her, but she’s making light of it, and I need her to understand. “I’m serious.”
“Sorry.” She leans forward and studies my face closely. “I can see you’re upset. Explain it to me.”
“There’s more.” I don’t know if I should tell Margot about this, but I also don’t have anyone else to ask. “Seri is a little…different.”