Regan Wolfrom - After The Fires Went Out - Coyote

She didn’t argue and disappeared back into the terminal building.

“Are you ready?” I asked Justin.

He nodded.

We slowly walked around the Girards’ truck, me with my pistol and Justin with his rifle. We walked toward the trees, both of us crouching as low as we could. I kept my eye on the metal tubing, and as we passed far enough for me to see behind it, I could see that there was no one there.

We reached the trees and searched through them, and I found where the second shooter had been positioned, a pile of expended shells littering the forest floor.

“They’re long gone,” Justin said.

“They left a man behind,” I said.

“Do you think Stems was one of the other two shooters?”

“I’m not sure…I’m not even sure Stems was involved in this. It all seems pretty amateur.”

“Amateur? They seemed to have some pretty big guns for amateurs.”

“Think about it, Justin…even with their assault rifles we were still pretty evenly matched, especially since we have three guys in body armour. And the first guy opened fire too early, before the second was in position, and long before the third was close enough to take his shots.”

“They still came pretty damned close to ramming that truck into us.”

“Not that close. This just doesn’t seem like something Stems would do.”

We started heading back to the terminal building. I swooped down to pick up a couple of shells. They looked the same as the ones that killed Ant.

“They probably didn’t expect us to be standing around outside with guns,” Justin said. “They probably thought we’d all step inside for the meeting and leave our guns in our vehicles.”

That got me thinking.

“That was the plan,” I said. “Livingston would make sure that none of us were armed, including me…and then he’d deliver his message and sneak out early.”

“The Walkers?”

“They’d only have to take out that one kid, and then they could just walk on in and kill every last one of us if they wanted to.”

“And the plan fell apart when we wouldn’t disarm.” He shook his head. “I don’t know, Baptiste…I just don’t think the Walkers would try something like that.”

“I guess we know who we can ask about that,” I said.

We returned to the air terminal building and found three of the Marchand boys keeping watch with their rifles. We went inside and found everyone else sitting around a long meeting table. For a moment it felt like everything was just supposed to go back to normal. But that was silly, since normal probably doesn’t include what I was planning on doing to Fisher Livingston.

But then I realized that Livingston wasn’t there.

“Where the hell did he go?” I asked.

“I don’t know,” Sara said. “He never came inside.”

I looked over to Justin.

“He wasn’t outside,” Justin said. “We would’ve seen him.”

“He has to be somewhere,” I said.

“Then we find him.”

But we didn’t find him. We searched for twenty minutes, checking broom closets, equipment sheds, and even an old Cessna that was parked off the runway.

Fisher Livingston and the Walkers’ white cargo van had disappeared. That only made him look guiltier.

A couple of the Marchand boys gave us a ride back home, with Sara riding in the cab and the rest of us in the back of their pickup. We siphoned what was left from our truck into their tank as payment, and I think we probably lost some fuel at the end of it.

But at least no one had gotten hurt, aside from the idiot with the eagle feathers who came late to his own funeral.

I‘m not sure that idiot was one of Stems’ men.

I pushed for Lisa with the handheld once we reached the bridge. We had the Marchands drop us there, which is pretty much how things are handled these days; no one really lets other families get too close to where they live.

We met the cart not long after turning to walk down New Post Road. Graham was driving and Lisa was sitting beside him, and the back was so full that I wondered if there’d be room for four more of us.

Pretty much everyone hopped off when the cart had stopped. They gathered around us like we were The Beatles. Or whatever band anyone else would have heard of.

“Thank goodness you’re okay,” Fiona said as she ran up to hug Sara. She glanced over at me, but glanced away once she saw me looking at her.

“Thank Baptiste and Justin,” Alain said. “Those two are like superheroes.”

“You were pretty badass, too,” Justin said with a wide grin.

“We were lucky,” I said. “That’s all.”

We all squeezed onto the cart, Alain sitting somewhat awkwardly on the bench between Graham and Lisa.

“You should have been better prepared,” Lisa said. I knew what she was trying to say, but I wasn’t about to reveal that secret in front of everyone.

“Was it Stems?” Kayla asked as she sat down beside me on the cart. She was visibly shaken.

“I don’t know,” I said, reaching around her with my arm and feeling her lean in against me. “Those guys certainly looked the part, but maybe that was just for show.”

“It could have been anyone,” Justin said. “I mean that. Anyone we didn’t see at that meeting might have been hiding in the trees with an assault rifle. The Lamarches, the Smiths…”

“But who has an assault rifle?” Fiona asked. “Can’t be that many people.”

“We have no way of knowing,” I said. “It’s not hard to believe that someone could have a stash of weapons they’ve been saving for a rainy day.”

“I don’t think so,” Graham called out from up front. “We gathered up every gun in the district for patrolling. People were glad to help out.”

“Legal guns, maybe,” Justin said. “You don’t honestly believe some outfitter with a secret AK-47 is going to offer it up for show and tell, do you?”

“Probably not,” I said. “So we don’t know who it was. Our best bet at finding out went flying through our windshield.”

After we pulled up to the stable, Sara dragged me out to the dock. It seemed conspicuous to me, but maybe everyone else just thought she was wanting some kind of adrenaline-rush makeout session.

“Do you think it was the Walkers?” she asked once we were alone.

“Honestly…that’s my best guess. If Stems had been running the op it wouldn’t have turned into such a clusterfuck. That dead guy was wearing a helmet painted with eagle feathers…could be legit, but it feels like someone really wanted to make that attack look like those Spirit Animal assholes.”

“I guess if Stems had been there people would have gotten hurt.”

“I didn’t say that. We weren’t sitting ducks. We know how to protect ourselves.”

“I know. I just don’t believe it, you know? Dave Walker trying to have us killed.”

“Or maybe if it was Dave Walker he was just trying to scare the shit out of us, make us think twice before going after those supplies.”

“No…that doesn’t make sense. If they wanted us to be scared of them they would’ve been more obvious. Now everyone thinks it was Stems.”

“That’s a good point,” I said. “So if it was Dave Walker he probably was trying to kill us.”

“That’s comforting.”

“Sure is…or maybe he was just trying to kill a few of us.”

“Like maybe just you and Justin.”

“Why me?” I asked, half joking.

“With you two gone I doubt anyone would go up against the Walkers. They’d have no issue keeping those extra supplies.”