“Is that my buddy Evan?” he said, almost asking the flames themselves.
“How ya doin’, Justin?” Evan responded, knowing any hesitation would reveal nervousness. He called him by his first name in an attempt to play a deceptive friendly hand. Scott wore only a grey hooded sweatshirt and faded jeans. Evan couldn’t see a gun on or near him. To the left, Richer also appeared unarmed in a blue plaid jack shirt. To the right of Scott, Connor stood expressionless. Evan didn’t notice a gun on him either, but both men could have them concealed under their bulky jackets.
“I’m good, thanks, friend,” Scott replied, slowly turning around. His hands were tucked in the pouch of his hoodie. Scott studied the three of them with a smirk. He noticed the guns over their shoulders. “You boys out huntin’ or something?”
Evan smiled faintly and shrugged. “We haven’t gotten anything. We must be gettin’ rusty!”
“Good thing we showed up! You guys woulda been wasting away up here by now. Eh boys?” Scott cocked his head back to the men behind him, who said nothing. “White man always saves the day!” He erupted in boisterous laughter, keeping his eyes trained on the three Anishinaabe men in front of him. Without missing a beat, he abruptly stopped laughing and spoke again, this time calmly and seriously. “Alright, enough bullshit. What do you want?”
“We gotta ask you about something.”
“Go on.”
“Were you down at the garage lately?” Evan kept his voice steady and low.
“What garage?”
“The one down by the band office. On the other side of the building where you used to stay.”
“Oh, the morgue?”
The word stung. Evan’s rifle felt heavy on his shoulder. He noticed he was gritting his teeth. He was starting to lose his cool, and he knew it.
“What the hell would I want down there?” Scott shot back without taking his hands out of the front pocket of his sweatshirt. Isaiah kept his eyes on Scott’s concealed fists.
“That day you were at the handout. You said something about knowing what to eat when the food runs out. Is that what you meant?”
“Oh, come on now, Ev. Why would I say something like that?”
“I heard you.”
“I was probably just joking. I know how you people have all kinds of ceremonies and voodoo and shit about your dead.”
Evan felt the blood rush into his face. “What’s in that pot?”
Scott kept his boots planted in the snow and lowered his voice. “That? That’s just a little experiment. Don’t worry about it.”
“It looks like you’re boiling something.”
Tyler breathed in, trying to smell what was in the pot but all he could sense was the woodsmoke.
Scott lowered his chin and his eyes hardened. Evan’s gut fluttered.
“Do you boys remember when I came here?” said Scott.
The pair behind him squared up to face them as Scott continued. “I came here by myself. I survived for days out in the bush after everything in the city went to shit. And it was easy for me. I coulda been out there for weeks, no problem. When I got here, you people barely had your shit together. There was no plan. People were going hungry already. And your solution? Give them handouts. Now those are running out, and there’ll be goddamn chaos here soon. If some of these freeloaders even survive this winter.” Scott’s voice rose and his eyes grew wide. “Most of them don’t even know how to trap! When I took some of those kids out there, they didn’t know what the fuck they were doing. If that’s your future, then… huh.” He shook his head.
Evan exhaled forcefully and let his own shoulders settle, as if he were about to squeeze a trigger with a moose in sight. “We were okay without you. And we’ll be okay without you. We been up here longer than you been.”
Scott squinted. “Is that a threat, Ev?”
“We don’t need you, Scott.”
“Bullshit.”
“We know this land.”
“I doubt that. Maybe you guys do. Not the rest of the deadbeats here.”
“It’s in all of them. They know it.”
“Don’t get all Indian on me now.”
Evan softened his tone and bared his palms in Scott’s direction. “Why did you come here, anyway?”
“Doesn’t matter. I’m here now.”
“What are you running from?”
“Your boys saw what was happening down there.”
“Why’d you think it’d be better here?”
The door at the back porch clicked and creaked open, and Cam emerged from inside. As he closed the door behind him and came into plain sight, Evan noticed his little brother’s bare arms and the front of his overalls covered in blood. Cam’s gaze was locked on the firepit. Evan felt his stomach drop. “Cam!” he blurted, his voice cracking.
Cam looked at his brother and his friends standing off against the white men. His eyes cleared as he recognized the familiar faces, almost as if he were emerging from a deep spell. He looked down at his bloody hands and began to sob.
“What in the holy fuck is going on here?” shouted Isaiah.
Evan shook off the sickening feeling in his gut and asked Scott outright, “Did you steal a body?”
Scott rolled his eyes. “Fuck sakes, man. Who cares?”
“We care. Those are our relatives!”
“It doesn’t matter if I did. This is a matter of survival, boys.”
Evan felt Tyler tense beside him. “You’re a fuckin’ murderer and a fuckin’ cannibal!” Tyler shouted. He made to move towards Cam, who stood frozen, but Evan held out his arm to stop him.
“Alright, everyone, calm the fuck down.” Evan fought to regain control of the situation.
“Let’s just have a look at what’s on the fire there, Scott.” He took a step towards the pot.
Scott pulled a pistol from the sweatshirt’s pouch and pointed it at Evan. “Now you just hold up there, boy,” he ordered. Evan stopped walking and slowly raised his hands. Tyler and Isaiah unshouldered their guns. “You both calm the fuck down too.” Scott waved the barrel at them. “You’ve seen me use this.”
“All of you, chill out,” said Evan as he raised his open palms. “Let’s just take a step back…”
Scott fired three shots, and Evan crumpled to the ground. As Scott turned to fire on Tyler and Isaiah, his head burst open above his left eye in a spray of blood, bone, and brain. He fell forward.
Meghan Connor stood on the back porch with the rifle sight up to her eye. Cam cowered on the wooden deck beside her. Her light brown hair draped over her shoulder and the butt of the gun. Her body heaved with shock. Scott lay face down, motionless, as blood leaked from his head into the snow, spreading crimson across the white.
Evan grunted, and Tyler scrambled to help him. Isaiah fixed his gun on the other two men, who put their hands up in surrender. He looked to Meghan on the porch, still holding her rifle. She nodded, and trained her gun on her husband and his friend, who froze in place. She muttered something to Cam, who remained crouched, crying into his bloody hands.
Isaiah turned his gaze back to the other men, and he knew there was nothing left to fear. Richer and Brad Connor were defeated without Scott. They were now outnumbered and outgunned. They would likely be banished from the territory for the part they had played, but that was the community’s decision. The water in the pot continued to bubble as the fire crackled beneath it. Isaiah took a few cautious steps towards it to look inside.
Thirty-One
The sun broke through the clouds, striking the snow as they dragged the sled past the abandoned Northern. Months had passed since anyone had walked this way, so Tyler and Isaiah were forging a new trail in the heavy snow. Their arms burned as they dragged the body behind them and sweat dripped from their noses. They said nothing, listening only to the sound their snowshoes made and the steady shushing of the plastic sled.