“Walter,” Evan said. “Scott was there too.”
“What?”
“Yeah, he was there drinking with them. You know they say that he’s bootlegging the last of the booze.”
“Jesus fucking Christ!”
“I know. I tried to get him to leave. But I couldn’t. He wouldn’t listen to me.”
“Fuck. We’ll deal with that later too. Come on, help me get these girls ready.”
Walter had driven to the health station earlier, while Isaiah had gone to get Evan, but he didn’t know where to find the body bags. He had gone back to his own home to get old dark blankets he had stored away. He walked to the back of his truck to grab them and handed Evan and Isaiah three each.
“I don’t know how we’re supposed to do this,” admitted Isaiah, “but we should at least offer some semaa, I think.” He dug a pouch out of his jacket and passed it awkwardly to the other men. They prayed silently and put it down close to where the young women lay. They dug their stiff bodies out of the snow, wrapped them carefully, and carried them one at a time to Isaiah’s truck, placing them gently on the open truck bed. Evan stayed in the back with Tara and Jenna while Isaiah drove to their temporary resting place in the shed behind the health station.
Terry met Walter, Evan, and Isaiah at the shed after driving Amanda home. He stepped out of his red pickup, looking defeated. I gotta tell him right away, thought Evan.
“Hey, Terry, there’s something you should know about last night…” The front door of the band office swung open. It was Scott, outfitted in his snowmobile gear, holding his black helmet.
“Good morning, boys,” he bellowed. “To what do I owe this esteemed visit?”
“Not now, Scott,” Terry muttered.
“Oh? What’s up?”
“Please, just give us a few minutes.”
Scott shrugged but stayed where he was.
Evan stepped closer to the chief. “Terry,” he whispered, as close as he could stand to him. “Scott was with them last night.”
Terry squinted his eyes in chagrin. “What? With who?”
“With the girls. He was at my brother’s place last night too.”
“Well, what the fuck happened then?”
“I don’t know.”
Terry looked over Evan’s shoulder at Scott. “Goddamn it, Evan, who else was there?”
“Other than Cam and Syd, Nick and Jacob.”
“Nick Jones?”
“Well, where is he? And Jacob?”
Evan’s heart skipped a beat. He hadn’t given them a thought. They likely would have left his brother’s place sometime in the night as well, and he had no idea if they made it home.
In the still, frigid air, the faint hum of snowmobiles interrupted them. It had been weeks since anyone had ridden their machines for leisure, so the sound from the south was unmistakable. Now they were used only for hunting or running crisis errands.
Evan peered at Scott. Scott looked at Isaiah, whose eyes darted to Walter. Walter awaited a signal from the chief. “Where’s that coming from?” he thought aloud when it became clear that Terry wasn’t going to do anything.
“I think we have some visitors,” said Scott calmly. “My bet’s on the hydro line.”
“We have to go head them off,” said Walter, wearily taking control. “Isaiah, you stay here with the girls. Scott, get in with me. Evan, jump in Terry’s truck.”
The trucks roared down the hill, took a left, and went straight to the store. Four machines were approaching. They staggered the two trucks to create a makeshift blockade, although anyone looking to bypass it on a snowmobile could easily take the ditch around. Walter and Terry left their trucks running as everyone got out.
The snowmobiles neared the ridge that marked the end of the ploughed road, slowed, and slid down, stopping a safe distance from the men and the trucks. They formed a line. The second rider from the right in a dark red and black suit raised his gloved hands in a peaceful gesture. The others did the same. The man turned off his engine, stepped off his snowmobile, and walked towards the waiting men with his hands still raised.
He looked to be a large man, a little bigger than Walter. He put down his arms, and they swished against his snowmobile jacket. His heavy boots clunked against the hard ground.
The two to the left got off their machines, and the leader took off his helmet. His tousled blond hair glowed in the morning sun. His face was pale, with a square jaw and high cheekbones.
“Hello, hi…” he began, as his voice cracked. “Where are we?”
“Gaawaandagkoong First Nation. Who are you?” Terry responded.
“We’ve been travelling a long time. We started in Everton Mills. We’re so hungry.”
Everton Mills was a small city farther south than Gibson. Evan surveyed their machines and couldn’t see any sleds attached with any indication of supplies.
“If you came that far,” Walter asked, “then where’s all your gear?”
“We set up camp about an hour’s drive south of here yesterday. We’re desperate to find anyone else. Please, do you have any food?”
He held his helmet in one arm, and Evan noticed his free hand trembling. There was fear, and desperation, in his eyes. The other newcomers started walking towards them.
“We have food,” said Terry, “for our community. You can appreciate that we’re hungry here too.”
“Please,” the man said. “We’re starving.”
The three behind him wobbled where they stood. They looked weak.
“You’ll need to cooperate,” Terry continued. “Who are you?”
“My name’s Phillips.”
“Do you have a first name, Phillips?”
“Mark.”
“Mark, how do we know there aren’t more people on sleds waiting behind you to swarm us?”
“You have my word.”
“I don’t know what your word is worth.”
“I’m begging you,” Phillips pounded his fist against his thigh.
“I’m asking for your patience,” Terry said firmly. “We’re a small community. We’re already stretched thin.”
“Let us by!” Phillips screamed and suddenly charged towards Terry. Four sharp cracks rang out and the stranger crumpled to the ground. The woman screamed and the men rushed forward. Phillips rolled on the road, groaning and bleeding into the snow.
Scott held his handgun tightly with both hands, pointing at the remaining three.
“Stay back! Stay back!” he commanded. Everyone stared at him in disbelief.
“Now you fuckin’ listen to this chief!” Scott ordered. “No quick moves! If you want to come in here, it’s on our terms!” On the ground before them, Phillips stopped moving. The woman retreated back to the snowmobiles and wailed.
Terry took a few steps toward Scott. “Jesus, Scott,” he whispered through his teeth. “What the fuck?”
“There’ll be more coming, Terry,” he responded. “We gotta make a stand.” He kept his pistol pointed at the others.
“You didn’t have to shoot him. You had no right to shoot him. You’re an outsider here, too, remember.”
“He was desperate and crazy. I was protecting us.”
“What are we gonna do with the others now?”
Shit, Terry’s lost control, thought Evan. He just handed it over to Scott.
“We gotta screen them. That Phillips was obviously their leader.”
“And what do we do now with Phillips?”
“Put him at the end of the road there. As a warning.”
Scott holstered his handgun and walked back to the truck. Walter and Evan stared at each other in stunned disbelief. Terry looked at his boots. Phillips bled out on the snow.
Part Two
BIBOON
WINTER