SLAUGHT PUSHED BACK FROM THE TABLE. “So. Ready to rock ’n ’roll?”
Chumboy answered, “I’m always ready.”
“Got the list?”
Chumboy pointed to his head, tapping the side of it, “It’s in here, every last item, including the cloth diapers for our new age witches in the infirmary.”
“Noticed you’ve been lurking around the infirmary a fair bit since those witches arrived Chum.” Larose was grinning. “Saw you bringing over a stack of books for them.”
“I was just exchanging some information on healing plants with Melinda. New mothers need to know that stuff, but I guess you wouldn’t know too much about that.”
“And you do?”
“Turns out, Harv, I do. Darla is a bit of a traditional healer, learned about the plants from her Uncle Leonard. That man, he knew his shit about the plants. And of course my Auntie Verla taught Darla a fair bit too.”
“Darla? That would be the wife you never mentioned?”
“Didn’t want to make you boys jealous, can hardly imagine what it’s like to not have the love of a good woman waiting for you. Guess that’s why you’ve been hanging around the witches yourself, eh Harv?”
Larose said, “That’s bullshit.”
Slaught was shaking his head, smiling, thinking it almost felt like it did before all the shit went down, said, “Can we get our asses in gear, and don’t forget the toy guns. I want lots of those. They were on the list.”
“Getting bored, are we?” asked Chumboy.
“Just get the guns, okay?”
“Come on, you really want me to be dragging wallymart specials across the tundra for you? Me, I got priorities, I gotta get diapers.”
“Just get as many as you can, alright?”
“Why?”
Slaught was shaking his head at Chumboy. “You sure know how to piss me off, don’t you? Let’s just say you aren’t the only one who reads, okay?”
Chumboy was heading towards the bay. “Fine, but there’s no way I’m riding into the great unknown with a plastic bb gun.”
“If it’s good enough for your Zapatistas, it might just be good enough for us. We need to get some public support, unleash some propaganda of our own to counteract this Wintermen bullshit Thought about maybe stealing a page from your Marcos fellow there, using those wooden guns as a way to let folks know we aren’t some sort of heavily armed threat.”
“Hey, you’ve been reading ahead,” Chumboy complained, “but maybe you didn’t read far enough, or even look at the pictures. I hope you noticed that it’s a real AK-47 Marcos has across his chest. Did you?”
“Yeah, well, Ricky and Jeff are taking care of that.”
“Not breaking into a government bunker?”
“Nope, Uncle’s hunt camp.”
“I don’t think you’re focused Mitch.”
She looked over at her shoulder at Grier. They’d just finished a final equipment check and had headed back to their room. Grier was pacing a bit, like he was winding himself up for something. Christ almighty, he was sure stressed. But he had a lot of nerve slagging her.
“That right?”
“I know maybe your confidence is shaken, babe, but you gotta get back on the horse.”
“Bad day at the office, Grier?”
“Sarcasm doesn’t really help at this stage of the game Mitch.”
“Oh, what would? Pouting? ’Cause you have that totally covered.”
“We can talk about me if you want, but I think there are some serious issues we have to address if you are going to be part of this final op.”
“If?”
“Well, to be honest, I think this has gotten a little personal for you, and I think that might be clouding your judgement.”
“Grier, why don’t you worry about your own issues, like having a tantrum and popping little Miss Bible Belt, and let’s just get on with it before one of us says something we might regret.”
“Mitch, you know we’ve both had the training, we both knew it could happen eventually.”
“What’s that, Grier?”
“You’re attracted to a target. Now that’s okay, but you need to know when to step back.”
She took a minute to draw in a deep breath. She really didn’t want to get into it now, they didn’t have a lot of time to get things together and get back out there, and Talos was cramping her ass for a wrap up. “Grier, not now, okay? We have a job to do.”
“That’s my point, Mitch.”
“Nothing interferes with me doing my job.”
“Well, that’s what I always thought honeybabes, but you’re making me nervous here. I don’t think your head’s in the game. I don’t know if you should be heading back into the field without resolving this.”
Patronizing dick. She grabbed her bag and shoved some of her clothes in it, tucking in her Browning as well, hoping Grier didn’t see. And she had no intention of heading back to Lazarus, not straightaway anyway. She was getting ready to teach that sonofabitch Slaught a lesson he’d never forget. Not much for details, Grier had probably completely forgotten about the tracking chip she’d slipped on Slaught’s snowmachine. But Slaught was on the move, and she was more than willing to meet him halfway.
Grier said, “I think you’d feel better if you just admitted that you were horny for him.”
She kept her back to him, waiting a few seconds, then said, “The first time he looked at me, well Grier, horny doesn’t come close to describing it.”
There was silence. Mitch grabbed her bag, headed for the door.
She glanced over her shoulder at Grier. “You know, you were right, I feel way better. How about you?”
Jeff followed Ricky for what seemed forever before they crested a small ridge and Ricky turned sharply to the left, taking them down a long tree-lined trail that ended with a few small buildings. Jeff killed his engine, pulled off his helmet and took a look around. “What the hell dude, this is messed.”
Ricky was already off his machine and heading for the small building that sat beside the pile of ash and snow. Ricky stopped when he got to the door, looking back. He wasn’t sure if Jeff was actually asking him something, but he saw him sitting on his snowmachine just looking around the camp, shaking his head. Jeff yelled over to him, “I’ve seen some haywire places man, but this is seriously whacked.”
There was a school bus painted flat black up on blocks across one end of the clearing. About five different car bodies in various stages of decay were scattered around the yard. There were three outhouses, one on either side of the clearing and one set back a ways into the bush. A couple of rusted out barbecues lying in a tangle on the snow just a ways from the heap of charred beams. A smallish cabin and woodshed sat some hundred yards from the main cabin, far enough away to save them from the fire. The woodshed was full of wood scraps, snow drifted up high along its sides and icicles dangling along the edges of the roof. A couple of deer heads were sitting on top of the log piles, glassy eyes staring.
“This was your first stop, eh?”
And Ricky said, yeah, he had needed some of his Uncle’s things. He also said he wanted to make sure.
“Make sure?” asked Jeff.
“Yeah, you know, uh, make sure that, uh,” Ricky stammered, not sure how to say it, “you know, that it was true, that my Uncle, was…” He trailed off, so Jeff said, “Murdered?”
Ricky said, “Yeah, I guess so, eh?” as he held open the door of the shed for Jeff.
“Should we start a fire and warm up?” Ricky asked.
“No, no time now Ricky, let’s find the guns first while we have daylight and then worry about getting comfortable for the night, alright?”
Ricky, standing in the middle of the room, said, “Makes me feel bad being here.”
“Yeah, I can see that.”
“It’s all that’s left behind, you know? It used to be such a great place, with my Uncle and stuff. We had fun here, coming up in the fall, moose hunting, I’d get up in the morning, and it’d be cold, and my Uncle Delbert would be up making the coffee. It was the best.”
Jeff was nodding, thinking this would be the last place he’d want to be if it was cold. Then he said, “Okay dude, enough memory lane, let’s go search for your Uncle’s stash, you’re making me depressed.”
“Won’t take much searching,” Ricky said, suddenly grinning. “What kinda camp needs three outhouses?”