Regan Wolfrom - Coyote

I glared at her. “You know I can’t do that,” I said.

“Why not?”

I didn’t know what to say. I couldn’t get into an argument with her in front of everyone, in front of Livingston…

“Just leave the guns outside,” Livingston said. “It’s pretty simple, Baptiste.”

“He’s not leaving them outside,” Justin called out from behind us. He had his rifle in his right hand. “And I’m bringing mine in, too.”

“Hold on,” the skinny kid said as he ducked into the building.

Another truck pulled up and I watched as a couple of the Girards climbed out, two of the brothers in their late forties, both with poorly concealed holsters slipped into their belts.

I’ve never seen any of the Girards carrying handguns before.

“Sorry about Antoine,” Denis Girard said to me. “He was a good kid.” I know that Denis had always liked him.

“Thanks,” I said. I nodded to his waist. “I see you guys aren’t taking any chances.”

“Things are getting bad out there… we ran into some trouble of our own.”

“I heard…”

“It wasn’t Stems, I don’t think. Dieu merci. But we’re not going to let it happen again.”

The skinny kid came back out with Eva Marchand, the head of the family. She gave me a smile but I knew it wasn’t a happy one.

“You can’t bring the guns inside,” she said.

“This was never a problem before.”

“Look… everyone wants to bring in a gun now. We can’t bend the rules for anyone.”

“I’m not leaving my gun outside,” Denis said. “We don’t go anywhere now without protection.”

“What are you all so worried about?” Livingston asked. “There are two men with guns blocking the road in. And there’s this young man posted at the door.”

“Not good enough,” I said. “I need to know that I can keep my people safe.”

“You’re wearing a bulletproof vest.”

“Sara isn’t,” Justin said. “And we’re not going to risk her life over this.”

“Justin will leave his gun outside,” I said. “One of the Girards will keep a gun, and one won’t. Maybe you can borrow one, Livingston, so you won’t feel left out.”

“We didn’t agree to that,” Denis said.

“That’s the compromise,” I said. “Take it or leave it.”

“No,” Eva Marchand said. “We’re not allowing guns inside the building. That is the rule.”

“Then we won’t have a meeting.”

“We don’t need you, Baptiste,” Livingston said. “You and Sara Vachon only get one vote anyway. And we’ll just elect a provisional chair if Sara won’t come inside.”

“I don’t give a fuck about voting. If we’re not in there, there’s no meeting.”

Other families had arrived by that point, and they’d all gathered outside the door, fanning out behind Sara and I; I’m sure it was clear to everyone but Livingston that I had the crowd on my side.

“Please, Baptiste,” Eva said. “Just leave the guns here and come inside.”

“I’m not going to do that,” I said. “You’re going to need to give in on this, Eva.”

“I won’t do that.”

“Then let’s just have the meeting right here,” Livingston said. “I’ll start.”

“That’s not how it works,” Sara said.

“Where is Dave Walker anyway?” I asked. “Does he know his lap dog has run away from home?”

“I’m representing the Walkers,” Livingston said. “That’s part of my role now.”

“We’ll need that in writing,” Sara said.

Livingston reached into his jacket and pulled out a crumpled piece of paper. He shoved it at Sara with a cocky smirk.

“I need everyone’s attention,” Livingston said in that irritating toastmaster’s tone he always used to trot out at meetings. “I’m here to let everyone know that the Walkers are withdrawing from the Supply Partnership, effective immediately.”

“They can’t just withdraw,” Denis Girard said.

“We aren’t even holding a meeting right now,” Sara said. “Does anyone remember how these things work?”

“We’re out of the partnership,” Livingston said. “Now you know. I don’t have anything else to say.”

“What about your inventory?” Denis asked. “I’ll bet half your supplies need to be redistributed.”

“We’re not redistributing anything. We’re out of the partnership.”

“That’s not acceptable,” Eva Marchand said. “The Walkers were a part of this agreement and they need to honour that. Their last inventory showed that the Walkers have more than their fair share of flour, beans, fuel… and many other things.”

“We have more mouths to feed,” Livingston said. “It would be irresponsible for us to continue handing out food to the rest of you, particularly as supplies are running low.”

“Handing out?” I said. “I think what you’re really looking for is for me to kick your ass.”

“More threats, Baptiste? Is that the only thing you’re capable of these days?”

I switched the shotgun to my left hand and grabbed Livingston by the sleeve of his coat.

“Hey… come on,” he said. “Baptiste… please…”

I shook my head and let go. I wasn’t going to hurt him; I just wanted to see if he still had a habit of groveling when reality shows him up. “You’re a fucking joke, Livingston. You know that?”

“This isn’t getting us anywhere,” Denis Girard said. “The Walkers owe us supplies. We need to send our people to collect them.”

“The Walkers are more than prepared to defend themselves,” Livingston said.

“What is that supposed to mean?”

“It means what you think it means, Denis. If you attempt to cross the Frederickhouse River with bad intentions, people are going to get hurt.”

“You can’t really mean that,” Sara said.

“What do you think will happen, Ms. Vachon? What would your friend Baptiste do if we showed up at your place threatening to take your supplies?”

“They’re not your supplies,” Denis said. “Those supplies belong to all of us. That’s the deal.”

“I need to go,” Livingston said. “I’m expected back.”

“You’re not going anywhere,” I said.

“You don’t want to make this into something, Baptiste. I told you there would be consequences for your actions.”

“We’re getting those supplies.” I turned to Denis. “Maybe a few of us should head back to Frederick with Livingston and pick up the first instalment.”

Denis nodded.

“I’m coming, too,” Justin said.

I heard the sound of automatic gunfire coming from the North. I grabbed Sara and pushed her toward the open door of the building.

“Take cover!” Justin shouted as he squatted down behind the engine block of the Girards’ truck.

I made sure Sara was inside the air terminal building before I came out to join Justin. He’d already fired a few shots in response.

I couldn’t see who was shooting at us, but I could tell that they were hidden in a line of evergreen trees around forty meters away.

Denis crouched down beside us, as did his brother. Alain Tremblay was trying to clear everyone else out of the parking lot, pushing them into the building. It looked like the skinny kid with the rifle didn’t want to go inside.

“We can use all the guns we can get,” I said.

The boy smiled and I immediately regretted my words.

Alain frowned at me but led the kid along the wall of the building, heading around the far side to guard our rear.

“Stems?” Justin asked.

“Sounds like it,” I said. “Or one of his men.”

“Just one?” Denis asked.

“Only one gun so far,” Justin said. “But it’s possible that it’s a feint.”

“Someone’s probably sneaking around the other side of the building,” I said. “That’s why Alain is heading over there now.”