FIVE HUNDRED NINETY-THREE DOTS in the ceiling tiles. That’s what Cole had counted while Eva paced back and forth down the hallway of the clinic. They hadn’t said much to each other, but they had spoken in glances. At least she hadn’t looked at him like he was a killer. It was just after 11:00 p.m. Cole had spent the last two hours counting the dots (after he’d counted all the ceiling tiles) and praying to God that Dr. Captain would be successful and Mr. Kirkness would be okay. Dr. Captain had come out of the room when she could, giving Eva updates. The updates had become more hopeful, from “grave” to “critical-but-stable.” Hopeful was better than what they’d experienced lately. Hopeful had to be enough.
Cole, all the while, counting this, counting that, hearing bad news, hearing encouraging news, chastised himself for once again being too late or too incompetent to prevent more violence. He had his head rested back on the top of the chair, staring up. Good for counting dots, and praying.
Dr. Captain came into the room again. She called Eva over. Eva was over by the ancient coffee machine, trying to get it to work. She was hitting it, but not getting anything out of it. That might’ve been a blessing. Clinic coffee tasted like hot soap. Eva ran over to Dr. Captain, who took her into her father’s room.
Six hundred thirty-seven dots in the ceiling tiles. Cole counted up that high before Eva came out of the room. She sat down beside him. Cole looked away from the ceiling, to Eva. He tried to rub the soreness out of his neck.
“He’ll make it,” Eva said.
“Thank God.”
“Thank Dr. Captain,” Eva corrected.
They fell silent. Wayne’s heart monitor filled the silence. After fourteen hypnotic beeps, Eva said, “You should save Creator for Elder Mariah.”
That was another prayer Cole had offered up. When they first arrived, Cole had carried Wayne through the hallways, following Dr. Captain to one of the only open beds After Dr. Captain and Wayne were inside and the door closed, Eva started pacing the hallway. When it was just Brady and Cole, Cole had heard the news. While Cole was incarcerated at the RCMP detachment, Elder Mariah had fallen ill. If she followed the same trajectory as every other Wounded Sky band member who had gotten sick, then she’d be dead sometime tomorrow. Presently, Brady was holding vigil at his grandmother’s side, giving her medicines, the ones that he had learned from her. He sent up his own prayers, maybe counting ceiling tiles, waiting for the inevitable while hoping against it.
“I’ve been talking to God about it all,” Cole said. “I’m not sure if He’s listening.” Cole wasn’t even sure if Choch was listening, for that matter. Since spending some time with him in the bush, the spirit being had been conspicuously absent. Maybe he was just as frustrated with Cole’s ineptitude as Cole was.
“Sometimes I think He’s forgotten all about Wounded Sky,” Eva said.
“I want to think He’s got some plan for us,” Cole said, and according to Choch this was, in fact, the case. Cole was the plan. Shitty plan, though. Maybe back to the drawing board on that one. Super strength, super speed, and still…
“How’d you get out anyway?” Eva asked. “We could’ve used a miracle somewhere else. No offence.”
“None taken.” Cole had been thinking since the incident that if he hadn’t charged across the field like some idiot, the gunman wouldn’t have been distracted, Wayne wouldn’t have tried to shoot the gunman, and Wayne might be okay right now. Maybe he, or Eva, or Brady, could’ve talked the shooter out of it. It was all cause-and-effect. Too late now. Always too late.
“So?” Eva prompted, wanting an answer to her question. “The jail? You were kind of in there for suspicion of murder. They wouldn’t just let you out. Even Jerry wouldn’t have let you out.”
Truth? Cole couldn’t decide how to respond in these brief moments. Wait too long and it would seem like a lie anyway, even if it wasn’t. A half-truth, then. She couldn’t know what he did now, but eventually she would, and so he was careful not to say anything that would be called a lie later. “I got out on my own?” Totally, 100 percent true.
“Obviously, Cole. Did you steal keys, did you—”
Cole tried a distraction technique, then. “I knew you were in trouble, so I had to get out. Didn’t your dad say anything? I told him that.”
“Yeah, he said I might be in trouble, but that was about it. I could tell he was worried. I think he was trying not to worry me, but, you know, that worried me.” Eva shook her head. “How did you know?”
Cole told her about his subsequent trip to the camp, and about the folder and the files. He told her about hearing the shot, and how he thought it was her.
“Shit,” Eva said.
“Shit is right,” Cole said. “And he’s just going to keep coming and coming…”
Eva stood up. She pulled Wayne’s gun out from the back of her jeans.
“Whoa!” Cole said. “Eva, what the heck?”
“If he’s going to come for us, then I’m just going to go to him. At least then I’ll have some kind of an advantage, right?”
“No,” Cole pleaded. “We should call Lauren or Jerry. You can’t just face off with this guy. You saw what happened to your dad.”
“Jerry? Really?”
“Okay Lauren. Let’s call Lauren.”
“No,” Eva said. “I have to do this.”
No, Cole thought, I have to. And do it right, for a change. It wasn’t her mission, it was his. There he was, trying to pawn it off on Lauren. He needed to find a way to convince Eva not to go, and go on his own, like it was supposed to be. But, looking at her, right into her eyes, he knew that she couldn’t be convinced. He knew her well enough to know that. So, there was only one alternative. “We have to do this. Not you. I’m coming.” Cole stood up.
Eva nodded, like okay, let’s do this. Maybe she saw the same thing in Cole, that there was no way he wasn’t coming. “It’ll be just like old times. We even have my dad’s gun again.”
“This isn’t shooting cans, Eva. This is a person, with his own gun, too,” Cole said. “And he wants to kill us.”
“Well, we won’t be hard to find.” It was the perfect, most kick-ass thing to say.
“Just, let’s not go to the camp like Rambo, okay?”
“Please,” Eva said. “He won’t even see me coming. This is my thing. I’m more worried about you, city boy.”
“I’ll be okay,” Cole said. “I’ve been practicing.”
They started on their way down the hall, to the front door, through the field, towards Blackwood Forest.
It wasn’t a long walk, now that they knew where to go. It was Cole’s third trip there, and Eva’s second, but she didn’t even need the app she’d used to track the path. Eva probably knew the woods as well as she knew the community. She was holding the gun the whole time, turning blind corners with it like she was in a cop show. Cole wasn’t sure if she’d learned how to do that from her dad.
The gunman was waiting for them, gun drawn, balaclava over his face. There was no need to sneak up on the camp, in case he was ready to ambush them. He was standing at one side, Cole and Eva entered at the other.
“Oh good. Two birds with one stone.” The killer pointed his gun, waved it back and forth, from Cole to Eva. “Which of you wants to go first?”
“Why are you doing this?” Cole asked. “Who wants us dead?”
“That’s classified,” the gunman said. “I’m just tryin’ to do my job.”
“How honourable of you,” Eva said.
The gunman stepped forward. Once, twice. “Who said anythin’ about honour? I’m not crazy. This pays. Cash.”
“You’re really just doing this for money? Killing kids? Do you know what we’ve been through?” Cole asked.
“I’m doin’ it for a lotta money, if that matters,” the gunman said. “Plus, you know, my day job doesn’t pay that well…” The gunman reached up with his free hand, and slipped off the balaclava. “But if you know Mr. McCabe, that’s not a surprise, I guess.”
“Scott?” Cole said.
“You could say that, in a way, this is kinda your fault, city boy,” Scott said. “You had to show your red-apple ass back here. You made more people hurt than me just by comin’ back, Harper.”
“You killed Ashley, Alex…” Eva started.
“Maggie…and you shot Mr. Kirkness,” Cole finished. “How do you think this is going to end for you?”
“First of all, I never killed Maggie. Second of all, they’re gonna take care of me.”
Eva raised her gun. “I’ll take care of you first, shithead.”
“What do you mean you didn’t kill Maggie? Who’s going to take care of you?” Cole asked.
“Oh my God, shut up,” Scott said. “Let’s just get this over with.” He cocked the hammer of his gun. Eva did the same.
Cole watched as her index finger tensed over the trigger.
“I can help, Coley!” Jayne appeared in front of Scott, who was oblivious to her. She’d never looked so bright, and never felt so hot. She looked at Cole, pleading for him to say “yes.” She couldn’t be hurt.
Cole nodded.
Jayne walked forward calmly, put her burning hand on the nozzle of the gun.
“Sorry, Scott,” Cole said. “I have a job to do too.”
The gun turned red. Scott screamed in pain. He dropped the weapon. Before the gun hit the ground, Cole rushed forward and jumped at Scott. They flew through the air, and then they tumbled across the ground, between the path and the forest. They came to a stop with Scott on top of Cole, his hands pressing down on Cole’s throat.
“I’ve been waitin’ for this,” Scott said.
Cole’s vision began to go black. He wasn’t unfamiliar with this sensation. He’d felt it each time he thought he was going to faint. Scott was pressing down on Cole’s carotid artery. Soon, he’d be out cold. That meant Eva would die.
“Get off him!” Eva shot her gun into the air.
Cole grasped at Scott’s wrists, which were covered in black sleeves and black gloves. Flashes from the prison break pulsed in Cole’s brain. Scott was human. Cole’s strength wasn’t. He pulled hard on Scott’s wrists. They flew apart. He fell towards Cole. Cole kicked him off. Scott grunted and landed on the ground ten feet away, tumbling even further along the ground and over the tent. He got up instantly—just in time to find Cole charging at him again. Cole punched him in the chest with both fists.
Scott didn’t get up so quickly this time. Blood dripped from his mouth. He was gasping for air. Cole approached him.
“Come…on…” Scott said. “City…boy.”
Cole obliged. The two men hit the ground. Cole was on top this time. He straddled Scott, sent blow after blow across his face. Cole screamed. He kept punching, punching, punching. Scott’s face grew bloodier with each hit, until he went limp. Cole felt a hand on his shoulder. He turned around with a raised fist, his eyes wild with rage.
“Cole!” Eva said. “Stop! This isn’t you.”
“Eva?”
She reached forward and put her hand over his fist. She lowered his hand.
“Stop,” she said.
Cole looked back at Scott, unconscious and almost unrecognizable, then at Eva. For a moment, he felt like they were back in the gym, sitting up on the mats, away from the world.
“I wish I would’ve stayed that night,” he said.
Eva let out a sharp breath from her nose. She smiled. “And then where would we be?”
Cole shrugged. “Together.”
“Dead together.” She pulled his hand towards her. “Come on, we have to go.”
“Is it over?”
“Yeah, it’s over.”
With Eva’s help, Cole started to get up from his knees, but was pulled backwards. His head hit a rock. This sent him into a haze. Scott rolled over on top of Cole.
“Sorry,” Scott whispered. Maybe that’s all Scott could do was whisper. He looked almost dead. Blood dripped from his mouth onto Cole’s shirt and skin. “I don’t have a choice…”
Cole felt cold steel pierce his chest.
“No!” Eva screamed.
Cole’s vision began to cloud, and he could feel blood rush from his limbs. He saw a blurry Eva lift the gun and aim it at Scott. Scott was digging the knife deeper and deeper into Cole. Fire burst from the gun’s nozzle. Pop. Scott’s body jerked, and then he collapsed on top of Cole, which plunged the knife deeper into Cole’s body.
Eva dropped the gun. She ran over and struggled to roll Scott off Cole. She knelt down at his side. He could hardly see her. He was slipping away. He could see the handle of the knife sticking from his chest, blood painting his shirt red. She reached for it, deciding if she should take it out or not. The sweetgrass ring was hanging from her neck. He tried to touch it, but his arm wouldn’t listen. She grabbed his hand.
“Cole!” she cried.
She sounded so far away.
“Don’t leave me,” she said.
He let go of her hand and jumped off the stack of blue mats. He looked at her. She’d inched up to the side of the mats.
“Don’t leave me.”
“I’ll come back.”
Cole walked across the gymnasium floor. He walked to the back door and pushed it open. He went outside and was hit by the cool air. It was nighttime. Dark outside. The black. Cole ventured into the black, and was covered with it. There was the moon, soft and white in the distance. He stared at it, begging for any light. It drew closer—bigger, brighter—until there was only a soft, white light.