After The Fires Went Out: Coyote atfwo-1

by Regan Wolfrom

  “We can siphon fuel out of one of the machines…We don’t need two of them once we drop Elodie off.”

  “We don’t have a hose…look, Kayla…it’s not going to work.”

  “You just said my name.”

  “Yeah. It doesn’t matter.”

  “You’re going to kill me,” Elodie said.

  “Baptiste,” Kayla said. “Come on…she doesn’t deserve to die…”

  “No one’s gonna die,” I said. “Can we all just shut up about dying already?”

  “We can’t take her with us. That’s not much better.”

  “What’s wrong with that?”

  “Have you forgotten what we just saw?” Kayla said. “I’d give my left nut to live in Aiguebelle. We live like a bunch of cockroaches compared to them.”

  “She’ll adjust.”

  “No. There’s no way.”

  “What?”

  “I said no, Baptiste. We are not taking her home with us. You don’t get to keep her. She goes home.”

  “Aiguebelle will know what we did,” I said.

  “That was your plan all along…to take her with us. Another girl for the harem.”

  “No,” Elodie said. “I won’t…”

  “I just want to get home, Kayla. I didn’t really think about what we’d do with her once we were clear.”

  “Well I’m thinking about it now,” Kayla said. “And we’re not taking her back with us.”

  “Is this some kind of jealousy thing?”

  “Screw you, Baptiste. We’re not ruining this girl’s life.”

  “So living with us would be ruining her life?”

  “Yes. Yes it is. If you can’t see that…well, then I don’t know…”

  “So what did you want me to do?” I asked.

  “We’ll give her one of the snowmobiles. She’ll take it to Eades. If we run out of fuel before we reach our gate, we can rest assured that we still have body armour and a goddamn assault rifle.”

  “If she tells them about us…they’ll come for us.”

  “They might. If they want to risk starting something with Ryan Stems.”

  “I don’t think Stems could give a shit what happens to us.”

  “He cares.”

  “She’s going to tell them,” I said. “And then they’ll come after us. We won’t have a strong enough lead.”

  Kayla pulled the key out of the ignition. “You want a head start?” She threw the key into the forest, dropping a little hole into the snow. “There. By the time she digs that out we’ll be long gone.”

  Even when I want to scream at her, I admire just how clever Kayla can be.

  The world’s shittiest snowmobile ran out of fuel not that far past the junction at Wade Lake. It took two hours of walking before we made it to the gate at Murphy Road.

  Once we were inside, I raised Matt on the handheld to tell him we were home. Then Kayla and I sat down in the middle of the road, exhausted.

  Justin pulled up fifteen minutes later in his car. He acted surprised to see the C12 hanging from my shoulder, but he didn’t ask about it.

  I guess Kayla was probably right; it hadn’t been much of a secret for quite a while now.

  Today is Saturday, January 19th.

  I noticed I was getting a signal on the phone this morning. I tried calling Alain but the phone didn’t ring.

  That could mean so many different things.

  Justin didn’t have anything to report on the day and a half that we were away. I half-jokingly said that I was surprised he didn’t crown himself king, and he replied that he was giving me up until Sunday night before he assumed I wasn’t coming back. There was no joking on his end.

  Kayla spent most of the day in a rage, since Matt didn’t bother to do a single thing for the goats or chickens while we were away. I think she should have been happy; Matt touching your livestock is a great way to lose your livestock. Even an old hen can fend for itself for a day or two.

  That night Matt called on the handheld to let us know that he was just going to stay at the Porters; I didn’t want to ask if he’d left our cottage empty last night, too.

  He had no problem wasting twenty hours a week on that stupid firebreak, but actually taking responsibility for something that mattered?

  Not his style.

  So it was just Kayla and I in that big house; I didn’t mind.

  I made us some raspberry tea and took it upstairs to her.

  She was sitting on the bed. She’d changed, but not into her pajamas. Or even into something more…inviting…she was dressed in a tight black t-shirt. And just her panties.

  “Thank you for the tea,” she said as she cupped one of the mugs in her hands. “I’ve had a chill all day.”

  “Today you’ve had a chill? Not yesterday when we spent half the day outside in minus twenty-five?”

  “Today I’m allowed to feel it.” She smiled. “I’m so glad to be home, Baptiste.”

  “I wish we’d brought Lisa and Graham back with us.”

  “I know…but let’s leave that alone for now. I…I want to try something different with you.”

  “Okay…”

  “It’s a little…different…”

  “You said that part.”

  She reached down beside the bed. I couldn’t see what she was reaching for.

  “I have a fantasy,” she said.

  She put her pink scarf on the bed.

  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 he
r.

  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.

  “They’re not here,” he said. “We need to get upstairs.”

  I heard the sound of an ATV headed up the road.

  I didn’t think there was much they could do to help us.

  “I don’t see a way upstairs,” I said. “Is there anything? A hatch or something?”

  “God…I don’t know…”

  “The axe. Find me the best spot and something to lift me up.”

  I ran back up the cellar stairs.

  I pulled the axe off of the splitting stump.

  I came back down.

  Justin snatched the axe from me.

  He climbed onto a plastic crate and started hacking at a joist in the ceiling.

  I stood back and held my hands over my eyes to keep the splinters of wood from blinding me.

  “Try knocking the boards upward,” I said. “Prying them…”

  He used the handle to push through the floor.

  I climbed up onto the crate beside him, trying to balance on one foot. I cupped my hands together to make a step.

  He dropped his leg into my hands and I brought my rear foot forward to steady myself. I threw my arms up, boosting him through the floor.

  He didn’t wait to help me up.

  I took my best jump. I wasn’t getting far.

  I hopped down and grabbed a second crate.

  I piled it on top and climbed to the top. I had just enough reach to boost myself up.

  I couldn’t stand the heat. It felt like putting my entire face on a stove element. But what the hell else was I supposed to do?

  I couldn’t find the fire; the heat was there, but the flames weren’t. I tried to remember how backdrafts work.

  “They’re not here,” Justin called out from somewhere behind me. “They must be upstairs.”

  “Or they got out,” I said.

  “I’m going up.”

  “Shit, Justin…be careful.”

  I found my way to where the stairs ought to be.

  They were there, but each step was charred and probably not far from full-on charcoal. I wasn’t sure they’d support Justin’s weight.

  But he didn’t waste any time, and he bounded up the stairs, his feet crumbling the wood like he was pushing through heavy snow.

  He made it to the top, and he disappeared down the hall.

  I wasn’t sure the stairs would hold me. I didn’t want to damage them more; Justin needed to get back down.

  It’s times like that when you forget all of the shit. When the guy who’s caused you more trouble than genital warts is just a guy you’ve known for a while, a guy who might be on the verge of losing everything…

  I heard a scream. At first I thought it was one of the kids, high-pitched and hysteric.

  But it was Justin.

  I knew what that meant.

  I don’t think those kids ever woke up.

  I helped Justin carry the children’s bodies outside and place them gently in the snow.

  I saw that Fiona and Matt were carrying Rihanna over to the Tremblays’.

  Kayla was standing between the house and the stand of tamaracks. She was wearing a large plastic tank strapped over her shoulders. She was spraying suppressant foam on the remaining flames.

  I’m glad Ant had taken the time to find that gear. We’d lost one cottage, and one family, I guess…but we could have lost a whole lot more.

  Fiona and Matt did their best with Rihanna, but without Lisa it was mostly two frightened amateurs digging through first aid articles and an old dog-eared book we still had on a bookshelf in the living room.

  She was burned…almost everywhere.

  Her skin went from pink all the way to a charred white.

  We didn’t dare attempt to pull off
her clothes; we knew we might pull off her skin along with them.

  “I don’t think she’s going to make it,” Fiona told me. “Even if we can figure out how to bandage her…the risk of infection…”

  “She needs a tetanus shot,” Matt said. He held up the first aid book. “Do we have that?”

  “We have syringes somewhere,” I said.

  “I’ve got them,” Fiona said, nodding to an open kit. “I’m nervous to do it.”

  “You can do it, Fiona. Just…just do it.”

  “So inspiring,” she said.

  “Where’s Justin?” Matt asked.

  “Kayla’s with him,” I said.

  “You should be there,” Fiona said. “You’re his best friend.”

  Matt seemed a little offended.

  “He needs you,” she said.

  I didn’t argue.

  I found Kayla and Justin sitting on a couple of wicker chairs in the front porch of the Tremblays’ cottage. Justin was staring at the charred house. Kayla was sitting silently on his right, holding his hand.

  “She’s gone, too,” Justin said.

  “She’s still fighting,” I said.

  “I should have gone for the kids…I should have left Rihanna.”

  “You did your best, Justin.”

  He started to weep.

  I knelt down to his left. I held the other hand.

  There wasn’t much else to do.

  Today is Tuesday, January 22nd.

  Rihanna gave up the fight not long after midnight.

  Justin had fallen asleep in the wicker chair.

  I told Kayla to let him sleep.

  I didn’t know where to put Justin’s children. I didn’t want to leave them out in the snow, but I couldn’t bring them into the Tremblays’.

  And I didn’t have the right to bury them.

  I wandered a little along Nelson Road. We’d never planned for burials; we didn’t have any caskets.

  We did have a lake.

  I went back home and dug out my snowshoes. I walked along the frozen lake until I found what I needed. I dragged a small fiberglass canoe up from behind one of the cottages near the Porters, right up to where we’d laid the children down.

  I placed them inside and covered them with leftover blankets from the Tremblays’. Justin would decide if he wanted to bury them with the smoke-logged sheets they’d slept with.

  Then I went back to the porch and waited with Kayla for Justin to wake up.