Rook Winters - Weight of Ashes

When he rolled the limp body away from himself, he took the mag gun and fired an arrow between two ribs.

“These things are scavengers,” he said. “They’ll keep coming as long as they smell death. We need to light the fire and get ourselves cleaned off. And find something for your arm.”

“Vaidehi said there was corn whiskey somewhere. If it’s still here, we can use it as an accelerant for the fire and a disinfectant my arm.”

He pointed toward the hospital. “She kept hers stashed away. She sometimes gave it to patients for minor things to take the edge off when she didn’t want to waste real painkillers. Maybe it survived the fire.”

They moved cautiously through the remains of the village. Elle feared another attack from behind every corner. Her arm throbbed with each step.

The inside of the hospital was in better shape than most of the village, its structure and contents clearly more fire resistant than the wooden cabins. There was damage from the explosives but the building itself had not caught fire and its metal cabinets showed promise for holding undamaged supplies.

“Here,” Court said. It was a cabinet in the back of the building. “I think it’s in here but it’s locked.”

Elle scanned the room in search of a key that would fit the old-fashioned mechanical lock. She didn’t find one, but she found a tank marked OXYGEN. “We can use that. Thank goodness it didn’t explode in here.”

She didn’t realize Court had left the room until he came back in with a metal shaft that he jammed into the cabinet and leaned into until the small lock gave way and the cabinet popped open. Inside was a glass jug holding at least ten liters of whiskey.

Court opened the jug and poured some on Elle’s arm. She groaned through gritted teeth.

“I think that hurts worse than the actual bite did.”

Court pried open more cabinets until he found first aid supplies. He wrapped Elle’s arm in a splash pad and she dry swallowed several pills. He tried to convince her to take a few minutes to recuperate, but she insisted they get the fire started as soon as possible. She didn’t want any more coywolf encounters.

They took the oxygen tank and whiskey to the meeting hall. Being careful not to step on anyone, Court waded through the straw and branches spreading the alcohol. Elle passed the oxygen tank to him and told him to leave it in the middle of the room with the valve open. It hissed ominously as he hurried out.

She lit a makeshift torch from the embers of a campfire and tossed it in. Flames rushed along the trails of corn whiskey, igniting the straw.

The fire moved swiftly, and they hurried away from the building. When the oxygen tank exploded, the meeting hall became a temporary inferno.

As it roared, the smell drove them further and further away until they had backed up across the clearing to the edge of the woods. They leaned against trees and watched the tops of the flames dance. Even in the midday light, the fire burned brightly.

“We should take the extra medical supplies with us,” Elle said. “If there’s anything small and valuable, we can sell it for food or supplies.”

“What are you talking about? Carry it with us where?”

“To Toronto. That’s our best place to start looking for Nora Barrett.”

“Are you nacking insane? We can’t go to Toronto. There’s only us left. The chickens that haven’t escaped need to be fed. The harvest needs to be finished. Vegetables and fruit need to be preserved for the winter. I need to rebuild my cabin. There’s—”

“Court, the village is gone. It’s pointless to stay here.”

“It’s not pointless. This is my home. We’re not going to Toronto. End of discussion.”

“Something bigger than us is happening, can’t you see that? They’re killing people because they’re scared of what they know. I can’t ignore that, not now. With or without you, I’m going.”

“Good luck lasting two days on your own.” He stood and brushed evergreen needles from his pants. “I’m going to dress the coywolf.”

“Britt? Britt, you in here?”

She heard Bear calling her, but she hadn’t composed herself yet so she didn’t answer. She drew in several slow breaths. Obviously, he knew she was in here. He’d watched her go into the storage room. She wiped her eyes and willed them to stay dry.

“I’ll be right there.”

“The containers need to go out or we’ll miss our window.”

“I said I’ll be right there.” She wasn’t one to snap at her crew. She’d apologize to Bear later. He was right, of course. This shipment needed to go out. The Willow Wisp wouldn’t be in range for another pickup for months. She had to pull herself together.

Britt checked her reflection in the screen of her tablet. Her eyes were red but that would pass. She touched her cheek, remembering how her makeup used to smudge on the rare occasions that something made her tear up. She didn’t miss makeup but what she wouldn’t give to get back her life when the things that made her sad were small concerns.

Britt pulled her shoulders back, filled her lungs, and pushed open the storage room door. Her small crew was waiting in the loading bay.

“What are you all lollygagging around for? I thought we had a shipment to get out.”

Her boots clanged on the old metal stairs as she descended with Bear to the train platform. He hadn’t been exaggerating, she’d cut it dangerously close. The grav train arrived in the time between her foot leaving the last step and touching the concrete floor.

The train’s rate of deceleration would flatten a human or even one of the Others. That was good. That meant the train was all cargo, no passengers, exactly as their intel said.

She waved to Novak, and he motioned for her to hurry. She walked as quickly as she could, which wasn’t very quick anymore.

“You’re cutting it kind of close.”

“We’ll see how fast you are at my age.” She handed him her tablet. “Here’s our addition to the manifest.”

Novak tapped his wrist computer against the screen. Both devices flashed green.

“Eight crates. Confirmed. Let’s look it over.”

Britt waved her finger in a circle over her head and Bear stomped back up the stairs. Overhead, five-foot-long crates slid off tracks and into the column of artificial microgravity that the train was generating above an empty compartment. Drones bumped and pushed the descending crates into position as they dropped at an unnaturally slow rate. Green lights popped on when the magnetic clamps inside the train took hold of the crates.

After all eight were in place, Novak opened the crates. Vacuum-sealed tea and coffee. Luxury items.

“Visual inspection complete,” he said as he swiped a finger across his wrist computer. “Digitally signing the manifest changes.”

“Keep your disgusting hands off me,” a woman shouted from a nearby corridor.

Novak hurried toward the source of the voice and Britt followed. A woman dressed in little more than rags was waving her arms at the lone security guard. He looked hopelessly at Novak as they approached.

“What’s the problem?” Novak asked.

“I’m not quite sure,” the guard said.

“Oh, we’ve got a long list of problems here,” the woman said. “Not the least of which is this asshole trying to grope me.”

“I did not,” the guard said to the woman. Then he repeated to Novak, “I didn’t. She showed up out of nowhere and started raving like this.”

“Raving! Oh, I see, I’m not some emotionally repressed man so obviously I’m a raving madwoman.” She swung the bag she was carrying, missing the guard but losing her grip on it and sending it flying. The contents clattered out onto the concrete floor.