Leave a Trail

by Fanetti, Susan

  He’d been through some dark fucking times, and he knew he was changed because of them. He knew they’d almost broken him—or they had broken him, but he’d found a way to put himself together. He knew that quiet times were safer. But like he’d told Nolan, those times felt false to him in some way. The life they were in now, that felt true. He didn’t want to get back to the way things were. He wanted to get through to the next thing.

  Sometimes he thought Isaac, Show, and Len understood that. But he also saw their nostalgia. He didn’t have nostalgia. His life was before him. Maybe that’s what the Horde needed to overcome their troubles. A vision for the future.

  Their errand in St. Louis, though, was very much a visit to the past. Kenyon Berry, a former associate of the Horde and erstwhile leader of the defunct Underdawgs crew, and a personal friend to Isaac, was on his deathbed, and they’d come to say goodbye.

  Badger didn’t know the man; he’d still only been prospecting when the Underdawgs were taken down in the wake left by Lawrence Ellis. Tommy had never heard of him before today. The two of them stayed in the hallway while Isaac and Len went into Kenyon’s hospital room. But after a while, Len opened the door and motioned for them to enter. With a quick glance between them, they went in.

  Kenyon Berry was frail and thin, old enough, he looked, to be Isaac’s father. He had brown skin and a faint scruff of grey fuzz for hair. Wrapped in a stretched and pilled navy blue cardigan, with an oxygen tube in his nose, he looked like a man on his deathbed.

  Isaac had been sitting in a chair at his bedside. When Badger and Tommy walked in with Len, he stood. “Brothers, I’d like you to meet a great man. Kenyon Berry, this is Badger Ness and Tommy Nickels. My money’s on Badge to lead the Horde some day.”

  Badger’s head swiveled so fast toward Isaac that his neck cracked audibly. “Boss?”

  Isaac just gave him an enigmatic smile and nodded toward the man in the hospital bed. So Badger stepped forward, his hand extended. “Nice to meet you, Mr. Berry.”

  The old man chortled weakly and then coughed. “Kenyon’ll do, son.” He gave Badger the once-over. “Today is not the first day Isaac’s spoken of you. He speaks well. But I know you’ve had some troubles.”

  Badger swiveled to Isaac again, a spike of rage shoving itself deeply through his spine.

  But Kenyon put his hand up. “Easy, son. No confidences have been broken, I’m sure. I’ve had my skirmishes with cruel people, too. Use those memories. Don’t let them have you. Own them. Make them yours—wring strength from them. There’s power you can take from that evil, if you stay clear enough to see it.”

  Badger nodded and said, “Yes, sir,” mainly because he was too befuddled by the exchange to do anything else. He felt like he’d been summoned to the Oracle or something, but he didn’t really know why he should care what this old man, this stranger, had to say to him. And Isaac saw him with the gavel? What the fuck? They’d ripped his leather off his back four months ago—how the hell was he the future of the Horde?

  He looked at Isaac, hoping to see something that would serve as an explanation, but Isaac was leaning over the bed, shaking Kenyon’s hand, his other hand on the old man’s narrow shoulder. Len turned and ushered him and Tommy out of the room again.

  When they were in the hall, Badger asked, “What was that?”

  “The boss is saying goodbye to an old friend.”

  “No—with me, with us. Why were we in there? Why did he say that?”

  Len shrugged and leaned against the wall. “Isaac respects that man. He’s given him knowledge and advice for a lot of years. I guess he wanted Kenyon to see that the Horde has a future. Because it’s true, brother. I see it, too. Not for a long time yet, but you’ve got a good head on your shoulders, when it’s not full of junk. You’ve got the will. And you’ve got the heart. The old man is right. We make the bad into something we can use. That’s how we’ve always gotten clear of our trouble. It’s experience. You can let it teach you, or you can let it warp you.”

  Badger turned from Len to Tommy—who shrugged broadly. “Don’t look at me, man. I fuckin’ know they’re not talkin’ to me. Only head I’ll ever be at is the one that flushes. And that’s how I like it.”

  ~oOo~

  It was past dark when they finally left St. Louis for home. Badger’s head was abuzz on the rest of the ride. He knew that it would be decades before he’d even be an officer, much less lead the table, if he ever did. Isaac was in his mid-forties. But the thought that these men whom he admired so much, who awed him and intimidated him, whom he had let down so hard, saw him in that way—that thought shuffled everything he knew about himself and his club. And he felt a heavy weight of guilt, too. He’d been so angry and suspicious since the fall. He’d been absolutely convinced that his brothers were waiting for the chance to take him down. He’d been harboring hate in his heart, his love for his brothers going rotten.

  It had been the Oxy, he knew, turning his head sour, making him see things wrong. But he did not feel worthy of their confidence. Not yet.

  About ten miles from the county line, Isaac signaled to pull over, and did so immediately, onto the shoulder of the interstate. and the others followed suit. Isaac only pulled to the interstate shoulder if he had no choice—pulling off at the next ramp was the safer option. So everybody knew there was some kind of problem. When he pulled his phone out of his kutte pocket, they all waited on tenterhooks. Somebody had called him, Badger assumed. When they needed to reach a brother on the road immediately, they called twice and let it ring once each time, so the rider knew to pull off immediately.

  Badger’s first thought was that Show had called, and there was trouble with Shannon and the babies. But then Isaac said into his phone, “Zeke. Talk to me.”

  There was trouble in town.

  “What? Fuck! What about…okay. Where’s Lilli?...No, not Show. Leave him…We’re thirty out. Twenty with a push.” He shoved his phone in his pocket and looked at his brothers, his eyes bleak behind his night-riding glasses. “We gotta ride full out, right now. The fucking B&B is burning. VFD coming on the scene.”

  Badger’s heartbeat soared into the stratosphere. “Isaac—what? What about Adrienne?” It was late—the shop was closed, and she’d be home. At the B&B.

  “I don’t know, brother. They’re just on the scene. Let’s roll, let’s roll.” They fired their bikes back up and tore hell toward home.

  Within two miles inside the county line, a cruiser was on their ass. They’d been speeding, too—their need to behave and stay off the Sheriff’s radar, literally and figuratively, had been thoroughly trumped by their need to get home. All four of them were volunteer firefighters. Badger realized that the last time they’d been called on a fire had been nearly six years ago—and they’d been called to the exact same place. The Keller Acres B&B had been built on the site of Will Keller’s farm, burned to the ground by people working for Lawrence Ellis.

  Getting arrested would not help. So when the lights behind them began to flash, Badger was glad—frustrated and livid, but glad—to see Isaac pull over immediately. They needed to take their damn speeding tickets and get back on the road.

  Badger was surprised that the Sheriff himself climbed out of the cruiser. Sheriffs didn’t usually do the interstate beat. But then he realized that this wasn’t them being unlucky and getting pulled over accidentally. This was the Sheriff lying in wait. Badger had missed the previous runs, when Seaver’s game of chase had begun.

  Isaac walked forward so that he was at the head of their group. Everybody else stood pat at their bikes and waited.

  As Seaver approached Isaac, he grinned. “Where’s the fire, boys?”

  Without thinking, Badger lunged forward. Tommy grabbed him and held him back. Seaver cast a momentary glance his way. “Careful there, fella.”

  Nobody else seemed to react to Seaver’s question. They were standing there, taking it. But he knew there was a fire—no way that comment was a coincidence. He’d heard th
e call over the radio or something. Fuck, maybe he was in on it starting. But he knew, and he was holding them up on purpose. Badger didn’t know if Adrienne was safe, or shit, the animals—he thought of the horror of the last fire—and he was standing on the side of the road while the motherfucking Sheriff played games? He moved forward again, and Tommy’s grip tensed. Tommy was bigger and stronger, and Badger knew he was right to hold him back. But Jesus Christ!

  His voice deep with fury but steady, Isaac asked, “There a problem, Sheriff?”

  “Well, yes there is, Isaac, my friend. All four of you were exceeding the posted speed limit. By quite a margin, I must say. I’ll need to see ID.”

  He didn’t search them or arrest them. He wrote them all speeding tickets. He wrote each one individually, and by the time he passed the completed tickets out, Badger thought he’d gone insane. He could see it in his brothers, too.

  When they were finally released, Isaac said, “Be cool, brothers. We gotta maintain.” They pegged their speedometers to the limit and continued on their way. Seaver followed them all the way to the town border—from which the glow of the fire was visible—and turned around.

  Their Sheriff turned around and left the fire to burn.

  ~oOo~

  They went first to the clubhouse and grabbed their gear, then sped to the B&B. The main house and Lilli’s fancy garden behind it were both fully engaged, but the men already on the scene were keeping the fire contained, so that the barn and the woods beyond it were safe.

  Four engines were on the scene—all the trucks from Signal Bend, Worden, and Millview. Horde and town men and women were everywhere, fighting the blaze or doing what they could to support the men who were. Badger had a horrible sense of déjà vu. Except that these pumpers were still pumping water, fighting the fire. When Will Keller’s house, on the very same spot, had burned, they’d run out of water too fast.

  Tasha had a medic station set up well back from the fire. Badger thought he saw Connie, the kitchen assistant, lying on a gurney. Two other people were sitting on the ground with oxygen masks on. And the mayor, in fire gear and covered in soot, stood nearby, holding bloody gauze to his head.

  But where was Adrienne? Yanking his gear on as fast as he could, Badger scanned the area. He saw her car—a burned, smoking wreck, the tires melted. She was here. She was here. Where? As he ran into the fray with Isaac, Len, and Tommy, Badger shouted her name.

  “ADRIENNE! ADRIENNE!” He saw Lilli near one of the pumpers. She was grimy with soot and pointing Dora Fosse toward some point behind the trucks. He ran up to her. “WHERE’S ADRIENNE?”

  Lilli grabbed his arms. “They’re trying to get to her, Badge. They’re trying to get to her.”

  “SHE’S STILL IN THERE?” He shook loose of Lilli and ran toward the house.

  It was engulfed. Oh, Jesus. So much fire. He ran on, pulling his mask over his face. He was almost to the blazing porch when he was tackled from the side and brought to the ground.

  “Get off me! Get off me! What the fuck are you doing?!”

  Len grabbed him by his rig and yanked him up. “You can’t just run in there, Badge! Gettin’ yourself killed isn’t gonna save her. There’s four men in there now trying to break through. We help them by getting the fire down. That’s how you help her. Can you do that?”

  He didn’t know. Every atom in him screamed to get to Adrienne. But Len was right. So he nodded and, not believing he was doing it, he turned away from the fire, away from her, and let Len lead him to the nearest pumper.

  ~oOo~

  He had no idea how long he’d worked. It must have been only minutes, not the hours it felt like. But long enough that he was drenched in sweat and the front of his mask was dark with soot. He had no idea whether they were gaining ground with the fire. All he could see was smoke and flame and water. All he could think of was Adrienne.

  And then he heard shouting of a different timbre in the din, and he turned to see one of the firefighters coming through the ruined remains of the building and into the yard, a small, slight figure draped in his arms. Adrienne.

  It was Double A carrying her. Badger could tell right away, because he wasn’t wearing his mask. He’d put it on Adrienne’s face.

  She was unconscious, and her clothes were burned.

  He pushed his mask and helmet off and ran, his arms stretched out to her. Again, though, he was grabbed. When he turned to yank himself free, he saw Tasha holding him.

  “Don’t touch her, Badge. Don’t.” Past them ran two uniformed men with a gurney. At first, Badger was confused. He didn’t know these men. Then he realized that an ambulance had arrived on the scene. He hadn’t noticed before.

  Double A laid her on the gurney, and then the men—they must have been EMTs—ran with her away from the fire. Tasha pulled Badge with her, and they followed.

  He stood there, helpless and dazed with terror, and watched the EMTs work as Tasha gave them information. One of them was on his radio. Badger tried to listen but didn’t understand almost anything he said. The fire burned on behind him, and he didn’t care.

  Her leg—her beautiful, beautiful leg. Badger stared as smoke curled up from the darkened flesh.

  Then they were moving frantically again, packing up their kit. Tasha came to him and grabbed his face in her hands. “They’re going to take you with them, Badge. You stay with her. I’ll have Len call Show so he’ll be with you, too. Okay?”

  “Is she…is she…” He couldn’t ask the question.

  “She’s hurt. That’s why the hurry. So go. Now.”

  He nodded and, still in his gear, followed the men loading Adrienne into the ambulance.

  ~oOo~

  Show was waiting at the ER entrance when they got there. Doctors and nurses whisked Adrienne away from Badger immediately and refused to let him follow. As he started to fight and shout, Show grabbed his shoulders and pulled him back.

  “Come on, brother. We’ll sit. We can’t help now.” He led Badger to a seat in the corner of the waiting room.

  They sat quietly for a long time, and then a thought that wasn’t fear for Adrienne slid through the black in his head. He turned to Show. “What about Shannon? Is she okay?”

  Show nodded. He looked terrible, like he hadn’t slept in weeks. “She’s sleeping. They give her something to help, so she’ll be out the night. She doesn’t know about any of this yet. Her nurses know what’s going on here. If something happens with her, or when she wakes up, they’ll page me.” He dropped a big hand on Badger’s shoulder. “Until she needs me, I’m with you.”

  Badger nodded, overwhelmed, and dropped his head. “I don’t know what happened. I wanted to keep her safe.”

  “Can’t, brother. All we can do is not be the ones doin’ the hurt.” Badger turned quickly at that and saw Show’s serious blue eyes regarding him. “Can’t control the rest of it.”

  “I’m so sorry I hurt her, Show. I’m so sorry.”

  “I know, Badge. It’s past. We’re okay. That girl loves you. And she’s a smart one. So okay.” His hand was still on Badger’s shoulder, and now he bore down. “She gave up a lot for you. I know you know that. So you treat her right. You hurt her again and there’s nothing on this earth that will stop me from ending you.”

  Badger nodded. He thought about those horrifying, long seconds in the ambulance when the beeping became a solid tone and the EMT in the back with them had had to shock her heart awake. “I can’t lose her, Show.”

  “I know. Don’t go there, brother. You won’t find strength there.”

  ~oOo~

  They had moved up to the surgical waiting area by the time Isaac arrived to sit vigil with them. Badger assumed the rest of the Horde was in Signal Bend, on cleanup detail.

  Isaac sat next to Badger, filthy, stiff, and obviously exhausted and in pain of his own. “News?”

  Finding words beyond him, Badge shook his head. Show answered instead. “She’s in surgery. Second and third degree burns on her right side—her l
eg and hip, I guess, are worst. Some internal damage and her lungs are hurt. They’re…I’m not sure all they’re doing in there. She has a broken collarbone, too. I think they’re setting that.”

  Isaac nodded. “Double A said they had to lift a beam off her.”

  Badger tuned in at that and turned to Isaac. “What the fuck happened, boss? Do we know?”

  “The oven in the kitchen blew up. Beth is dead.”

  Show sat back. “Fuck. Poor Ernie. Anybody check on him?” Ernie was Beth’s husband. He had a weak heart. They had six sons.

  Isaac nodded. “Lilli’s with him. And we called their boys home. They’re on their way.”

  “We lose anybody else?”

  “No. There was not one guest there. Marv and Connie got hurt, and a couple men were hurt fighting it, but Tasha took care of all of them at the scene. Beth is the only one we lost, and Adrienne’s the only one hurt bad.”

  Badger didn’t understand. “That makes no sense. The B&B is always full during the summer.”

  Show answered. “Shannon’s been stressed, because a family reunion party had the whole place booked for a long weekend, starting today—or yesterday, I guess, now—and they canceled last minute. The place was gonna be empty for five days, unless somebody dropped in. I fought her all day trying to get her to calm down about it.”

  Badger turned to Show, who was staring at Isaac. He turned to Isaac and could see that they were thinking what he was. “Somebody did this on purpose.”