Chapter 31 Ice Beats Fire
ICE BEATS FIRE
Afew moments later, I found myself once again making coffee by the fireplace in our cottage.
It was an onerous task since the fire had only just been lit and could not be depended on to stay steady.
For what felt like the hundredth time, I blew into the glowing embers, stirring them with a rusty poker, only to be rewarded by a gush of smoke that made my eyes sting and water.
Many leaders’ meetings had been held since Finlay’s death, but his absence had not gotten any less palpable.
As if by an unspoken agreement, nobody ever sat in his place on the couch.
Even when I finished making coffee, I would always sit on the side of the armchair by Einar or else on his lap as I had always done, despite there being enough room on the sofa.
With what was later revealed to be a meticulously planned agenda, Einar commenced the gathering by conversing about the newly discovered tendency of furies to form swarms. He spoke at large about the immense threat it posed to us and about the resources it would drain from us.
“We will have to keep an eye on the swarm, have its movements monitored to be warned in advance if it starts approaching our territories,” he said in a firm, steady tone of voice.
“Which will mean using a lot of petrol. We can never be safe with a horde like that out there. And there is no way for us to take on a swarm without firearms, explosives, and a very strategic location ...”
“But sooner or later, they will snuff it. With’oot food,” Russ said in a hopeful tone, suggesting that he very much wanted someone to agree with him.
“Sure, but once they hunt down all the people and animals along the coast, they will probably pursue us as their next food source,” Albert pointed out darkly. “We will have to keep running from them until they do actually die.”
“Precisely.” Einar nodded, his expression grave but his eyes twinkling with the satisfaction of someone for whom things were heading in precisely the desired direction.
“And you know what the worst part is? There will be more than just one swarm. As much is guaranteed,” he continued, hand moving through the air like an orchestra conductor’s, leading us all to where he wanted us at, and we wholly powerless to stop him.
“How long can we realistically keep an eye on three, five, seven or even more hordes at the same time before they finally catch us off guard?”
Unsurprisingly, nobody disagreed with him.
The floral curtains swayed in the gentle summer breeze, and I focused on their undulation, sipping my bitter black coffee.
Einar did the same, making it abundantly clear that he wouldn’t speak anymore.
He was waiting for somebody else to say exactly what he wanted them to say.
“That German bloke mentioned something ’bout Bastia?” Russ mentioned tentatively. “A new gov’nment. Maybe ... they could ’elp somehoo?”
Einar’s lips hardened, his jaw tightening subtly in an expression of displeasure I knew well. That was not it, what Russ had said, not the thing he had been waiting to hear.
“If they could have, they would have. But we’ll circle back to Bastia ...”
“I think it’s even more urgent that we talk about the bikers,” Albert volunteered his opinion, and Einar’s eyes shone as if he were about to shout ‘Bingo!’
“Exactly right, Albert!” Einar said in a gravelly tone of voice. “They have to go, as much is clear.”
Albert, Russ, and Jean-Luc all protested this in their way: shaking their heads, pleading, shouting.
“I, for one, agree with Einar,” I piped in, poor young Emma’s face still on my mind. “I’m not sure how he plans to—”
“Agree with what, you dumb twat?!” Albert got up and marched closer, his face ruddy and his voice bleating with anger. “March into Bonifacio with bows against guns? We’ll be dead in a minute, you stupid bitch!”
Calmly, unhurriedly, Einar lifted me lightly off his lap, pushing me to the side of the armchair.
Then, just as calmly, he got up. Albert had already turned pale and was muttering excuses under his breath when Einar grabbed him by the collar and slammed him hard against the wall.
The impact resonated thunderously through the room, gone silent.
Bits of peeling paint fell to the ground.
“You’re one of my best mates. I value you. And to keep peace with you, I haven’t interfered in your private affairs, no matter how many people have asked me to.”
Despite his impassioned words, Einar’s voice was one of a methodical, emotionless executioner, and his face was inches away from Albert’s as his hands closed around the latter’s throat.
“But I’m warning you, the next time you speak to my girl this way will be the last time you ever speak, because I will rip your tongue out and our friendship be damned. I don’t do bros-before-hoes. Insulting my woman, or so-help-you-god harming her, is a capital offence against me. For anyone.”
“Why does she keep interfering with our meetings then? Did I miss a vote where we all agreed to make her one of us?”
Reluctantly, I had to admire Albert for voicing these objections in the position he was in.
The position in question being that his feet didn’t reach the floor and dangled comically.
I had felt a nasty stab of satisfaction at seeing him so, and my gratification was spoiled somewhat by this little act of bravery.
“There’s nothing to vote about. In the time she’s been with us, she brought us weapons, trained our archers, and killed more infected than all of us put together.
You, Russ, and poor Finlay have only ever been my counsel because you’re my mates.
Jean-Luc is only here because our prior settlement was in his care.
I alone was voted leader, me. Not you. Not any of you.
And with all due respect to your contributions, Renata did a hell of a lot more to deserve her voice being heard here.
I won’t have you disputing that anymore. ”
Finally, Einar let Albert go, and the two of them stood awkwardly side by side, not looking at each other. I hid my face behind my cup of coffee, suppressing an unhinged desire to laugh at the farce of the scene.
“Mate, I’m with you one ’undred percent as far as Renny’s concerned,” Russ spoke carefully into the ensuing silence.
“She’s got the biggest bollocks of us all.
With’oot ’er we’d ’ave been proper foocked so many times.
But marching on Bonifacio, mate, Albert’s right, that’s bonkers! It’s a fortress!”
Einar smiled, but it was a slight, icy smile that didn’t reach his eyes.
A nasty smile he got sometimes before killing a particularly repulsive fury.
A smile that used to make me afraid of him.
And I knew then that he had us all exactly where he had wanted us, no less than if he had caught us in a cage.
“You would be right, of course,” he spoke quietly, “if I were suggesting marching on them as they are now. But that’s not my plan at all.”
Everyone fell silent once more, pondering his words in confusion. But then a powerful shiver ran through my spine as I grasped his meaning. Dread began crawling up inside me.
“You mean to infect them,” I said with a degree of certainty that prevented me from making it sound like a question. “You want to turn them first.”
There was more silence, but its nature shifted from baffled to stunned.
Einar looked directly at me, nodding imperceptibly.
It took me a while to remember to breathe again, and in the meantime, I had enough time to get over my initial horror and consider the suggestion from a more practical standpoint.
“Infected can’t shoot,” I pondered out loud. “When these thugs threatened Monika and me last September, they said there were fifty of them. As much as we can’t take on fifty armed men in a fortress, fifty roamers are easy ...”
“Exactly.”
Einar smiled at me proudly, and I smiled back, even though I felt a little resentful, like a little girl who had been tricked into reciting a poem for the adults.
Albert sat back down, the soft armchair depressing under his weight, his mouth hanging open. I realised that sweat ran down the crevice between my breasts, but I couldn’t tell whether its cause was the heat rising from the fireplace or the conversation we were having.
“You do realise there are innocent people there too? The women they kidnapped?” Jean-Luc asked, breathless from agitation.
“Collateral damage.” Einar shrugged.
“Even if I put aside the moral considerations of this hideous suggestion,” Jean-Luc said, “just how do you plan to infect them?”
That was a good question and one I could not possibly phantom the answer to.
“Well, we know that the infection can spread through bodily fluids, including saliva. And we know that Lena’s planning to go to Bonifacio anyway, to give herself up to them—”
“Och no, I can already see where yer goin’ with this,” Russ groaned.
“She can smuggle in a few vials. Well, hopefully. And later, with luck, she’ll have a chance to contaminate their food, bottles, anything. Or she can rub it, uhm, on herself before they inevitably rape her ... she is immune after all.”
I groaned as well. What a thoroughly repulsive thought. And yet I didn’t doubt for a second that Lena would agree to it readily if it gave her the slightest possibility of getting Emma out of Bonifacio.
“That’s a lot of uncertainty, man,” Albert remarked demurely, gingerly massaging his bruised neck.
“Oh yes ... a lot of risks, especially for Lena. And for us too, if they catch her and make her talk.” Towering over us rather like a preacher at his pulpit, Einar smiled coldly.
“But the gains to be had if it goes right are enormous. Not only would we get rid of the bikers, the menace that they represent. We would also inherit their weapons, their stores of petrol and their very strategic fortress ...”
I gasped.
“We could withstand the swarms!”
Everyone’s eyes went wide at this. For anyone who had seen the nightmarish anthill of a thousand infected bodies ready to rush and destroy, this was an irresistibly tempting proposition.
Einar’s eyes gleamed approvingly like metal in sunlight.
Seemingly without effort, he got me to play my part well without ever discussing with me what said part entailed.
“Not only that, Ren,” the leader with a crown of ash and gold spoke, with a commanding sneer. “If those bastards weren’t lying about their equipment, then with some careful planning, we may be able to eradicate the swarms.”
“You know.” I exhaled tremendously with a sigh. “I used to be scared of you. Today I remembered why.”
I wrapped my arms around Einar’s bare shoulders, pressing the side of my face against his, feeling the scratch of his stubble.
“Oh? And here I was, thinking how cocky you were getting.” He gave my neck a gentle bite. “Demanding that I shag you right here in the bloody kitchen of all places ...”
I was presently perched on the wooden countertop, balancing precariously at the edge of it. Our encounter was finished, but Einar was still inside me. I could feel him revive with our embrace and encouraged him by sliding closer to him, my breasts flattening against his chest.
“I don’t recall you objecting in any way.”
“I didn’t get a chance. You were quite pushy about it.”
He kissed me on the lips. Lifting me off the counter, his hands slid under my thighs, and he carried me effortlessly.
“Oh, I beg your finest pardon. Would you like to accept my apology by choosing the next location?”
“Gladly. How about the table?”
“The kitchen table?”