I've never been to Canada, but I definately knew where I'd been after I woke up (if that makes sense). I blame the re-runs of Due South...
One
It wasn’t a survivable explosion.
I kept well back in the tree line, in case this wasn’t an accident and there was someone out there, viewing their handiwork. Even from my limited vantage point it was obvious that the underground petrol storage tank had gone off like a bomb, levelling Bob’s Fuel & Food. The diesel tank was still burning though, sending up a thick column of smoke into the wintry sky, like some latter day funeral pyre. I’d half expected there to be crows circling in the early morning sky, waiting for the flames to die down, but I guess they didn’t like their meat that well done.
So much for the anonymity of witness protection.
Hollis and Barnes came walking up the slope towards me, leaving no footprints in the fresh snow. They were semi-transparent until close up, when they kind of slid into reality, crunching to a halt in front of me. There was a moment’s embarrassed silence until Barnes spoke.
“Bit of a bugger, eh? Well, at least you’re still in one piece.”
I gave him what I hoped was a sympathetic smile.
“Yeah, well, not much I can say, given the circumstances. Really tough break, given you only had a few days before I was left to my own devices. Ah, any idea what happened?”
Barnes stroked his chin.
“There was an explosion, about three A-M. The-“
“Two explosions.” Hollis cut in. “Both tanks, I figure. The whole place just got swept away.”
I frowned.
“Deliberate then. How do you think it was done?”
The two Mounties exchanged glances. Hollis shrugged.
“No way anyone could have gotten close enough to plant something without one of us noticing. I mean, it’s not like we were ever that busy. I figure a small incendiary in the last fuel delivery, pumped straight into the tank. Probably on a long timer, a real hands-off operation. You were due back hours ago, so the delay saved your life.”
I nodded, distracted.
“Yeah, I had some, ah, personal business in Edge City after my dental appointment.”
Barnes grinned.
“You mean the masseuse in Portland Street, above the Hanoi Barbers?”
I cleared my throat, feeling my face go red, but Hollis saved me any further embarrassment.
“It’s no biggie, we’ve always known about your visits to Nancy. Stuck out here you weren’t likely to meet anyone socially, and that’s a fact. Did you really think that Anderson wouldn’t keep tabs on you?” He frowned, “Where is Anderson, anyway?”
“You’ve been bleeding,” Barnes cut in, “a scalp wound, right side. It’s been tended to. I can see sticking plaster under your cap.”
I raised my hand but felt nothing through the glove, although my head did smart when prodded. The mention of my escort made me look round.
“Anderson? I don’t know. I’m not sure. He must have stayed with the car when we saw the smoke and I came up here to take a look.”
Both men drew their firearms on reflex, a futile gesture which I didn’t comment on. Hollis kept his voice level, with only a little tension showing through the self-control.
“No, that doesn’t sound right. At the first sign of trouble Anderson would have gotten you well away, let alone send you up here to investigate. Don’t you remember what happened?”
I frowned, realising the immediate past was a blur. All I could grasp were brief images, like some esoteric trailer for the film version of my day out.
“We rear-ended someone, a pickup truck, at the lights, on our way back. I banged my head. No seatbelt. I got cleaned up someplace, the rest room at the bus station, maybe. After that it’s all a bit hazy.”
“You could be concussed. As soon as the emergency services get here you should be hospitalised and checked out in case of cranial bleeding. I’m surprised they’re not here already, that smoke must be visible for miles.”
“Still doesn’t explain what happened to Anderson.” Barnes had an edge to his voice, almost an accusatory tone.
“Look, guys, sorry. I simply don’t know. Maybe he spotted someone following us and stashed me here, then took off to act as a decoy.”
That sounded weak, even to me. Luckily at that point the faint sound of an approaching siren reached us, heading off any further speculation. Barnes looked down towards the road, keeping behind what sparse cover the pine trees afforded.
“RCMP out of Mountain Gap. Probably. I’d stay put until either the fire service or an ambulance shows up. Preferably the fire service as it’s harder to fake. Still, it looks like you’re on your way out of here.”
There was an awkward silence until Hollis cleared his throat.
“So, what happens to us now?”
I resisted the impulse to shrug.
“Sorry, guys, but that’s the kind of thing you ask a priest. I was able to bring you back, but it’s only temporary. I don’t know where you go from here. I’ve heard of people being brought back two, three, times, but what you get is less and less, ah, coherent. It’s a kind of psychic Alzheimer’s and I’ve no idea if it affects you once you do, ah, pass over.”
Barnes put away his gun and stretched.
“You ready, Hollis? I’ve never been one for long goodbyes.”
Hollis nodded but remained silent, thin-lipped. We shook hands and I stepped back, letting them go. Both men became transparent, indistinct, and were gone. Gone like the fading memory of a dream, but one that left footprints in front of me.
I shivered and suddenly felt hungry, as the concentration required to summon the dead burs me out like heavy exercise. Some of those I’ve brought back cling to the moment, desperate for whatever extra time I can offer, and cutting them loose tears at my very soul. At least when I’m dealing with the police they generally have an underlying realisation of how badly things can turn out. Not fatalistic, exactly, more a grim acceptance that the chance of violent death goes with the territory, and that’s enough to make the transition a good deal easier.
It started to snow - large, lazy flakes that drifted like blossom in the still air. One landed on my upturned face and stung for a moment, then faded like a lost soul.
One
It wasn’t a survivable explosion.
I kept well back in the tree line, in case this wasn’t an accident and there was someone out there, viewing their handiwork. Even from my limited vantage point it was obvious that the underground petrol storage tank had gone off like a bomb, levelling Bob’s Fuel & Food. The diesel tank was still burning though, sending up a thick column of smoke into the wintry sky, like some latter day funeral pyre. I’d half expected there to be crows circling in the early morning sky, waiting for the flames to die down, but I guess they didn’t like their meat that well done.
So much for the anonymity of witness protection.
Hollis and Barnes came walking up the slope towards me, leaving no footprints in the fresh snow. They were semi-transparent until close up, when they kind of slid into reality, crunching to a halt in front of me. There was a moment’s embarrassed silence until Barnes spoke.
“Bit of a bugger, eh? Well, at least you’re still in one piece.”
I gave him what I hoped was a sympathetic smile.
“Yeah, well, not much I can say, given the circumstances. Really tough break, given you only had a few days before I was left to my own devices. Ah, any idea what happened?”
Barnes stroked his chin.
“There was an explosion, about three A-M. The-“
“Two explosions.” Hollis cut in. “Both tanks, I figure. The whole place just got swept away.”
I frowned.
“Deliberate then. How do you think it was done?”
The two Mounties exchanged glances. Hollis shrugged.
“No way anyone could have gotten close enough to plant something without one of us noticing. I mean, it’s not like we were ever that busy. I figure a small incendiary in the last fuel delivery, pumped straight into the tank. Probably on a long timer, a real hands-off operation. You were due back hours ago, so the delay saved your life.”
I nodded, distracted.
“Yeah, I had some, ah, personal business in Edge City after my dental appointment.”
Barnes grinned.
“You mean the masseuse in Portland Street, above the Hanoi Barbers?”
I cleared my throat, feeling my face go red, but Hollis saved me any further embarrassment.
“It’s no biggie, we’ve always known about your visits to Nancy. Stuck out here you weren’t likely to meet anyone socially, and that’s a fact. Did you really think that Anderson wouldn’t keep tabs on you?” He frowned, “Where is Anderson, anyway?”
“You’ve been bleeding,” Barnes cut in, “a scalp wound, right side. It’s been tended to. I can see sticking plaster under your cap.”
I raised my hand but felt nothing through the glove, although my head did smart when prodded. The mention of my escort made me look round.
“Anderson? I don’t know. I’m not sure. He must have stayed with the car when we saw the smoke and I came up here to take a look.”
Both men drew their firearms on reflex, a futile gesture which I didn’t comment on. Hollis kept his voice level, with only a little tension showing through the self-control.
“No, that doesn’t sound right. At the first sign of trouble Anderson would have gotten you well away, let alone send you up here to investigate. Don’t you remember what happened?”
I frowned, realising the immediate past was a blur. All I could grasp were brief images, like some esoteric trailer for the film version of my day out.
“We rear-ended someone, a pickup truck, at the lights, on our way back. I banged my head. No seatbelt. I got cleaned up someplace, the rest room at the bus station, maybe. After that it’s all a bit hazy.”
“You could be concussed. As soon as the emergency services get here you should be hospitalised and checked out in case of cranial bleeding. I’m surprised they’re not here already, that smoke must be visible for miles.”
“Still doesn’t explain what happened to Anderson.” Barnes had an edge to his voice, almost an accusatory tone.
“Look, guys, sorry. I simply don’t know. Maybe he spotted someone following us and stashed me here, then took off to act as a decoy.”
That sounded weak, even to me. Luckily at that point the faint sound of an approaching siren reached us, heading off any further speculation. Barnes looked down towards the road, keeping behind what sparse cover the pine trees afforded.
“RCMP out of Mountain Gap. Probably. I’d stay put until either the fire service or an ambulance shows up. Preferably the fire service as it’s harder to fake. Still, it looks like you’re on your way out of here.”
There was an awkward silence until Hollis cleared his throat.
“So, what happens to us now?”
I resisted the impulse to shrug.
“Sorry, guys, but that’s the kind of thing you ask a priest. I was able to bring you back, but it’s only temporary. I don’t know where you go from here. I’ve heard of people being brought back two, three, times, but what you get is less and less, ah, coherent. It’s a kind of psychic Alzheimer’s and I’ve no idea if it affects you once you do, ah, pass over.”
Barnes put away his gun and stretched.
“You ready, Hollis? I’ve never been one for long goodbyes.”
Hollis nodded but remained silent, thin-lipped. We shook hands and I stepped back, letting them go. Both men became transparent, indistinct, and were gone. Gone like the fading memory of a dream, but one that left footprints in front of me.
I shivered and suddenly felt hungry, as the concentration required to summon the dead burs me out like heavy exercise. Some of those I’ve brought back cling to the moment, desperate for whatever extra time I can offer, and cutting them loose tears at my very soul. At least when I’m dealing with the police they generally have an underlying realisation of how badly things can turn out. Not fatalistic, exactly, more a grim acceptance that the chance of violent death goes with the territory, and that’s enough to make the transition a good deal easier.
It started to snow - large, lazy flakes that drifted like blossom in the still air. One landed on my upturned face and stung for a moment, then faded like a lost soul.
