“One more place to check,” I said as I walked over to the root cellar that was dug into a little rise behind the barn. I scraped the snow off the door, but it was frozen and I couldn’t get it open; I began to kick it. After several tries my boot smashed right through, creating a gash in the door but not pushing it open. I peered inside, but it was too dark to see. I pulled my headlamp from the pouch on my belt and pointed it through the hole like a flashlight.
“I guess that’s it,” Graham said.
“Hold on.”
There was something in there, like burlap sacks…
Maybe potatoes… maybe worth taking back home if they weren’t rotten.
My light bounced along, running along the lumps in the cellar. Then the light reflected back to me from a set of frozen eyes.
“Oh my god,” I said. I’m not sure it was loud enough for anyone to hear.
I kicked on the door again, widening the hole. The winter sun came in enough for me to see clearly what I was looking at.
I recognized most of them, Denis and his two brothers… and an old man… and two old women, and three young children. Their hands were bound behind their backs, their bodies lifeless and bloodied. I could see well enough that they had been beaten to death rather than shot. Whoever had done it had chosen not to waste any bullets; they probably used something like the butt of a shotgun to do the job.
Just like I’d used on Marc.
I then saw what they’d wanted me to see: the bodies of two young women, bruised and cut. Natalie Girard and Tabitha Smith. Both girls were bound like the rest, but they had been stripped naked. Their throats were cut. And drawn onto Natalie’s stomach in black marker was a message, just for me.
YOU DID THIS BAPTISTE.
I could feel my chest harden as I fought to breathe.
Graham pushed his way through to look. Once he had seen he turned his head away. I heard him vomit.
“What the hell?” Matt said. He shoved his way forward as well. I watched his knees buckle as he fought to stay on his feet. “What does that mean?”
“They killed them,” I said. “Because of me.”
“I don’t get it,” Matt said. “How did they manage to get the Girards to give up and let themselves be murdered?”
“They’re not all here. Some are missing.”
“Maybe they got away.”
“Maybe…”
“But how―”
“Hostages,” I said. “They grabbed a few of them… maybe the kids… told the rest to give themselves up.”
I knew what had really happened. The two girls. The two chairs against the wall. They’d been torturing them, using them as their bargaining chip.
I couldn’t bear to admit it out loud.
“It still doesn’t make sense,” Matt said. “So they’ve got my kids or whatever, and they’re going to kill them. So I hand over my guns so they can kill the rest of us?”
“Safe passage,” Graham said.
We both looked over at Graham. His face was still pale and I could tell that he wasn’t feeling any better.
“Maybe they promised them safe passage,” Graham said. “Whoever did this may have convinced the Girards that all they wanted were supplies, that if they cooperated they’d let them leave.”
“You think anyone would be stupid enough to believe that?” Matt asked.
“I’d believe them,” I said. “I’d believe anything that would make it stop.” I’d have done anything to save those two girls. I should have brought them to live with us.
“As if,” Matt said. “You’d just build a little sniper nest and you’d fuck them up with your shotgun.”
“You don’t know me as well as you think you do.”
Matt looked at me, bewildered. He had no idea.
“So they’re not all here?” Graham asked.
“I think a few are missing,” I said. “Natalie’s sister, for one.”
“And Michelle Girard,” Matt said. “We went to school together. Well… different schools, but I knew her.”
“So that’s two missing persons. Both young women.”
“You think some of them got away?” Graham asked.
“No… not really. You don’t just leave family behind.” I wondered what Cassy would have thought of me saying that.
“My god,” Graham said. “What’s stopping them from coming over to our place and doing the same to us?”
“I don’t know,” I said. “Could be we have better security, or it’s because they figure we’re better armed. Or it could just be that they’re saving us for last.”
I’d left the girls wide open. If those assholes were out to hurt me… Lisa on her own couldn’t protect against whatever this was.
“We’d better get back,” Matt said.
I’d already started running.
We threw the dining room set off the cart and headed back as quickly as we could get the horses to move; I could not help but think how much faster we’d be moving if we’d had enough diesel to run our truck.
I couldn’t keep my mind from slipping into a bad place. I started to think of what could be happening to the women I had promised to keep safe, that they’d be taken like Natalie and Tabitha were, stripped and bound and terrified, with the man in the coyote helmet getting off on all of it. They’d be hoping desperately that we would come home to help them but frightened to death of what might happen once we arrived. I couldn’t stop from picturing them, tied to chairs in our dining room, with Sara trying to focus the attention on herself, hoping desperately to deflect the violence away from the young women she wanted so much to protect.
And then I thought of my wife and of Cassy, and for an instant I saw them too, screaming in terror and pain, wondering why I’d never come back for them.
But then it kicked in, the discipline that had kept me alive when I needed it most, and I was able to take my focus away from the fear and move it over to what I needed to do.
Graham was driving those horses as fast as he could; he didn’t need any help from me. I would come up with a way to take the Spirit Animals out before they even saw us coming.
We reached the bridge over the Abitibi. I could see no tire tracks on the road back, no sign that any Toyotas had come this way.
And the gate was still locked; we saw no sign of tampering.
That was nothing close to a guarantee; there were other roads and other bridges, and the river itself was frozen enough in places for a hardened pickup to cross over the ice.
We stopped the cart not far past the junction with New Post Road; there’s nothing quiet about a team of horses. Matt didn’t argue about being left behind with Graham’s SIG as Graham took the shotgun and followed me.
We wound our way through the woods to the back of the barn. He stayed on the ground as I climbed up to the loft; I’d done it enough times that I could do it without making a sound.
I reached the top and I peered down into the kitchen. I could see Fiona there, leaning over the stove and stirring a pot that was close to boiling over. I couldn’t see the others, but I could hear Kayla laughing from wherever she was.
I snuck back down the ladder just as quietly as I’d climbed it.
“We don’t want to surprise them,” I said, finally feeling myself breathing again. “Lisa will mess us up.”
We made our way back to Matt and the horses. He could see from our faces that everything was okay.
As we brought the cart up to the cottage, Sara and Lisa came out to greet us, neither one having bothered to put on a coat.
“What did you find out?” Sara asked.
“Not much,” I said, rushing to give my reply. “Everything’s gone. Looks like they bugged out.”
“Bugged out?” Lisa asked.
“They’ve left,” Graham said. “Didn’t leave much behind.”