Regan Wolfrom - Coyote

He was describing the Spirit Animals, but that didn’t mean he was telling the truth. Word spreads in strange ways.

“I thought she was your girlfriend,” I said.

“I’d hooked up with her from time to time,” Caleb said. “No big deal.”

“What about the hood?” I asked. “And the blood?”

“They had the hood on her,” Caleb said. “I guess maybe they were taking her somewhere but she got away.”

Justin chuckled. “So she was running down the street with a bag tied over her head, found your truck and hopped in, and then you rescued her but somehow lost her right after?”

“We ditched the truck and ran into the hospital. We split up and I found a place to hide. They didn’t look for me that long. They grabbed Pauline and walked out. Then I saw them kill her.”

“Shit,” Justin said. “You’re lucky to be alive.”

“I guess.” He hadn’t caught the sarcasm.

“I’ve heard enough,” I said.

“I’m not lying,” Caleb said. “Please…”

“He can’t stay here,” I said. “And we’re not letting him run around the district looking for other people to kill.”

“It doesn’t make sense,” Fiona said. “The McIvors have been gone for a month. What was Pauline still doing here?”

“Fiona the detective,” Kayla said.

“You explain it, then.”

“Pauline got into a fight with Jayden,” Caleb said. “She stormed out and came to stay with me for a while.”

“Or you kidnapped her,” Sara said.

“That’s ridiculous. I don’t kidnap people.”

“So why did you kill her?” I asked.

“I didn’t kill anyone,” Caleb said. “You have to believe me.”

“Fuck it,” Justin said. “I know exactly what to do. We take him outside and we shoot him in the back of the head.”

“You’re joking,” Fiona said.

“He’s a problem in need of a quick solution. We’re not wasting an ounce of food or firewood on this piece of shit.”

“Let’s drive him out to Aiguebelle,” I said. “We’ll drop him off a couple clicks from the border and let them take care of it.”

I expected Justin to argue.

I waited.

He gave me a nod instead.

“What’s to stop him from coming back here?” Sara asked.

“Would you come back here, Caleb?” I asked.

“No fucking way,” Caleb said. “I don’t ever want to see any of you again for as long as I live.”

Justin laughed. “I think we’ve got a plan.”

“This isn’t right,” Graham said. “Aiguebelle has indentures.”

“So what?”

“Don’t we have a very specific policy of not allowing anyone to transport people across our territory for indenture? Didn’t we almost get into a shooting match with Detour Lake last summer about this very same thing? Dropping him off in Aiguebelle means condoning slavery. I’m not willing to do that.”

Justin shook his head. “Slavery? That’s a pretty loaded word.”

“What would you call forcing a person to sign their freedom away just so they can eat?”

“I call it two squares and a place to sleep,” Justin said. “And if Caleb doesn’t want that he can live out in the woods or something, catching fish with his gotch. Either way, he won’t be our problem anymore.”

“I won’t fight it,” Caleb said. “I have nothing to keep me in Cochrane anymore.”

Justin smiled. “Beats the alternative… and saves us having to dig another grave.”

“What…” Kayla said, her voice quivering. “What the hell is wrong with you?”

“Problem?” Justin asked.

“You’re an asshole.”

“And you’re a slut. Are we all about labels now?”

“That’s enough, Justin,” I said. “You’re over the line.”

He sighed. “Shit,” he said quietly. “You’re right. I’m sorry, Kayla. That wasn’t cool.”

“No, it really wasn’t,” Sara said, positioning herself in front of Kayla. “Look… I really think you should go home now, Justin.”

The way he glared at her surprised me. I could see the red in his face. “I’m not going anywhere, Sara,” he said. “Get used to it.”

“We don’t have any real proof,” Fiona said. “There’s some reasonable doubt here.”

“Fuck reasonable doubt,” Justin said. “I’m reasonably certain that the world will be a better place without this piece of shit.”

“This isn’t a debate,” I said. “I’ve made up my mind.”

Justin seemed pleased by that for once. “We can use my car.”

“You have enough charge to make the trip?”

“More than enough.”

“How has this been decided?” Graham asked. “This isn’t right.”

“Fuck,” I said. “It’s been decided, Graham. Let it go.”

“All hail King Baptiste,” Lisa muttered.

I’m not sure why everyone keeps calling me that.

Caleb didn’t say a word as Justin drove us toward Quebec; he was still bound with the plasticuffs and I’d put the hood back on.

The road to Aiguebelle was paved, but it hadn’t been maintained much even before the comet and The Fires, with surface breaks and a shoulder that dropped away every few hundred meters.

It didn’t take long for us to reach the junction at Wade Lake. If you turn left there, it’s a good two hours to go visit the “objectivist commune” at Detour Lake. If you turn right and keep on for twenty minutes or so, you can get to Iroquois Falls, which used to be a small city before the plumbing went funny and people started puking their organs out.

We went straight, toward Quebec and the twin cities of Rouyn-Noranda and Val-d’Or, or Aiguebelle as they like to be called. Those fine folks tend to talk down to we savages from Ontario.

About two minutes later Justin pulled over.

He climbed out of the car.

I assumed he was going to take a piss.

He pulled up his seat and grabbed Caleb by the arm. “Time to get out,” he said.

“Hold on,” I said. “What the hell are you doing?”

“End of the line.” He pulled Caleb out and pushed him toward the ditch.

“We’re nowhere near Aiguebelle.”

“This is as close as this kid’s getting.”

“Wait,” Caleb said. “What are you doing?”

“That Aiguebelle stuff was all for show,” Justin said. “A little bit of role playing for the ladies.”

“No, Justin,” I said. “This isn’t the plan.”

“Hold up… so you were serious? You were going to drag this sorry sack of shit to Aiguebelle? The borders are closed, Baptiste. They won’t let anyone in these days… and certainly not a goddamn murderer.”

“I didn’t kill anyone,” Caleb said.

“Shut up,” I said. “Since when are the borders closed?”

“Since I’ve been moving people for a long time, Baptiste. The last few loads Marc and I made to Quebec, before you guys made us quit… I had to sneak them past the border guards. This needs to happen. We need to kill him.”

“No. This isn’t how we handle things.”

“It needs to be. If you don’t have the sack for it…”

“I was worried you’d try to trade him off as a twink to Detour Lake… but not this…”

“He’s worth nothing, Baptiste. And I fucking made you a promise, remember? No more trades outside your damned Supply Partnership.”

“Yeah… you make a lot of promises.”

“Seriously…”

“So keep your latest promise. Let’s take him to Aiguebelle. He can stand at the border and beg for them to open it. Then he’s their problem.”

“We’re not giving this asshole any more chances. You gave Ryan Stems a second chance, and look what that got us. Little Ant Lagace with three bullets in his chest.”