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“Easy. I just followed the other sled tracks.”

The hair rose at the back of Evan’s neck. Goddamn it, he thought. He followed Kevin and Nick.

Evan heard one of the trucks approaching behind him. Finally. It was Isaiah in his big red diesel pickup. Isaiah took in the standoff and the rifle as he pulled his truck next to Evan’s. He jumped out, leaving his truck running, and stepped to Evan’s side.

“What’s going on?” he asked.

The sun glanced off Scott’s bald head. “We’re getting acquainted.”

“Who are you?”

“My apologies. The name’s Justin Scott.”

Isaiah turned to Evan, who was monitoring the visitor. Wary of Scott’s every move, Evan didn’t even acknowledge Isaiah.

“What do you want?” Isaiah prodded.

“Well, as I was just explaining to your friend here — sorry, I didn’t catch your name?” Scott said to Evan, stepping off the snowmobile.

“It’s Evan.”

Scott looked to Isaiah. “And what’s your name?”

There was an awkward silence. Evan’s heart pounded in his eardrums. He didn’t want the situation to escalate. He shot Isaiah a glance to prompt him to respond to the stranger.

“Isaiah,” he finally replied.

“Evan and Isaiah,” Scott repeated, taking a few long strides towards them. “Nice to meet you.” He walked closer and took his thick gloves off, extending his bare, calloused white hand in greeting.

He turned to Evan first, who reluctantly obliged. His rough, meaty palm dwarfed Evan’s. The handshake was half goodwill, half intimidation. Scott let go and shook Isaiah’s hand the same way. Evan noticed that the top of Isaiah’s head came up only to Scott’s hard blue eyes, and Isaiah was a tall man.

“Where were we? Oh, yes, that’s right. I was just explaining why I’m here. Well, my Ojibwe friends, I’m here for the same reason everyone else is: to breathe the fresh northern air. I also want to taste the finest moose meat — I hear they’re bountiful up here. And I hear the hospitality of the Ojibwe is unrivalled.”

Isaiah narrowed his eyes. “Are you fucking with us?”

“Now, son, no need for vulgarities. I told Evan, I come in peace.”

“I’m not your son.”

“Izzy, just chill out,” Evan scolded him.

Scott’s smile faded. He cracked his jaw, shifting it from side to side. “I have a good feeling that you boys know what’s happening. I don’t think you woulda grabbed your rifle, Evan, if you weren’t on edge,” he said. He shifted his focus to Isaiah. “Now Isaiah — may I call you Izzy?”

“No.”

“Isaiah, I was just starting to tell Evan about how I followed two weaving sled tracks out of the city and up here.”

“Fuck,” Isaiah muttered under his breath.

“I’m sure whoever made those tracks told you about the situation. Quite honestly, it’s bad. Down south is the last place you want to be right now.”

“Is that why you’re here?”

“I’m a man of the land, fellas. Right now, I’m getting the lay of it.”

“Cut the bullshit, man,” Evan commanded.

“I apologize, Evan. The trail has taken a bit of a toll. I’ve had a lot on my mind, and a lot of time to think about it.” The frigid air didn’t seem to bother his bare head. “What’s the situation here?”

“I don’t think you’ve earned the right to ask questions here yet,” Evan replied.

“Well, I’ll tell you my side of things, then,” said Scott. “Ten days ago, we lost everything at once, power, satellite, comms. It went to shit pretty quick. What do people here know?”

“Everything is out here too,” Evan said grudgingly. “We don’t know much. We know about Gibson because two of our boys came back yesterday. The boys you followed.”

“I hate to break it to you, boys,” Scott said, “things are gonna get worse. How much food is here?”

“Enough. We’re a community of hunters.” As soon as the words left his mouth, he knew he was exaggerating.

“Good. I’m a bit of an outdoorsman myself. I think I’ll fit in well here.”

Scott’s smile did nothing to reassure Evan. He was on the run, that was clear. He needed a place to hide. What else does he know? wondered Evan. Why does he want to be here? He studied the rig behind him and noticed large hard cases tied down to the steel sled. “What’s in the back there?”

Scott turned to glance at his ride. “Oh, just winter supplies,” he said. “Everything I need for winter survival. I’ve been prepared for this for a long time.”

“Yeah, looks like it.” Evan glanced over the cases another time, imagining what was inside. He assumed a small arsenal.

“So you’re planning on staying a while, I guess, eh?” said Isaiah.

“If I’m welcome, and for however long you’ll have me.”

“That’s not up to us. We’re gonna have to talk to chief and council.”

“May I meet them?”

“It’ll take some time. We’re waiting for someone else to meet us here. We’ll send him to get someone when he gets here.”

“Fair enough.”

White strangers weren’t a rarity — non-Anishinaabeg came regularly. Some were government officials, others had business interests, and there were usually a few church and health people on assignment to the rez. White labourers also came up to fill employment gaps the community itself couldn’t meet. A few stayed for good, after finding love and starting families. But their community was remote. No one just “stopped in.”

Evan pulled his pack of smokes out of his pocket and tipped it in Scott’s direction, raising his eyebrows. Scott shook his head slightly. Isaiah paced until the last plough rolled down the road to lift the uncomfortable standoff. Isaiah waved Tyler in.

Tyler pulled the large black truck up to Evan and Isaiah. He opened his window and mouthed “what the fuck?” as Isaiah stepped up to his truck.

“He says his name’s Justin Scott,” Isaiah whispered over the rumble of the diesel engine. “He just showed up on that snowmobile. It sounds like he’s from the city. He followed Kevin’s and Nick’s tracks up here.”

“What does he want?”

“He wants to stay here. He hasn’t really said much yet. He’s really weird. I don’t trust him.”

“Well, what are we gonna do?”

“Go get Terry and whoever else you can find. Walter. Get Walter too. They’re gonna have to decide. I don’t think we got any choice, though. He seems dead-set on staying here.”

“Goddamn it. People are gonna shit themselves if they see him.”

“Yeah, I know. So go get council as soon as you can and bring them back.”

“Alright, I’ll be right back. Take these first.” Tyler handed Isaiah another stack of paper before he put the plough into reverse to drive back up the road.

“He didn’t want to join the party?” asked Scott.

“He’s going to get the chief and some councillors.”

“Well, I hope they get here soon. We’re not much use to anyone just standing out here in the cold. I’m sure you boys still have a job to do.”

Without answering, Isaiah split the stack of flyers Tyler had given him and handed Evan half. He looked down at the paper.

COMMUNITY MEETING
TOMORROW AT NOON IN THE GYM
UPDATE ON POWER OUTAGE
PLEASE CARPOOL IF POSSIBLE
LUNCH WILL BE PROVIDED
REMEMBER TO TURN OFF ALL LIGHTS WHEN LEAVING HOME
MIIGWECH,
CHIEF AND COUNCIL