EMP [Collateral Darkness] | Book 4

by Tony Mastrolacasa

  By the time the snow arrived, Xander had his empire and anybody that stood in his way was shown what an incredibly misguided idea that was.

  What Xander and his company of thieves would fail to consider, however, was the fact that Sudbury was a relatively small city. With a population of just over 160,000, it was considered huge by Northern Ontario standards, but it wasn’t nearly large enough to support that many people for long. Within a month, half of its residents had already moved on in search of a better life. They were gifted some extra weeks with power and transportation, but without the steady flow of tractor-trailers coming in from down south, the grocery stores were soon cleaned out. As a result, Sudbury quickly found itself with a serious supply and demand problem.

  By the time the second round of EMPs added Sudbury to the list of powerless cities, starvation, sickness and rampant crime had already taken hold. Xander would soon control everything in Sudbury as well as the outlying areas, but there really wasn’t a lot left worth controlling. Sudbury was once a bustling city, but as soon as the goods and services dried up, the area was no longer hospitable to human life. Anybody that remained knew they were in for a very long winter.

  There was a time when the residents of a remote northern city could provide for themselves, use the skills past down for generations to survive the harsh environment, but that was long ago. Sudbury had become a city of consumers. Residents made their livings from the area’s abundant natural resources, but they didn’t live off of them. They depended on their grocery stores, even more so than their counterparts to the south. Most could heat their homes with the wealth of trees that surrounded them, but without their grocery stores they needed to hunt. With thousands of hunters heading into the same forests everyday it didn’t take long for the local wildlife to get the hint. The Sudbury area was no longer hospitable to wildlife either.

  Xander knew that a move south was inevitable.

  Chapter 2

  “I’m telling you, mister, drop that gun right now or I’m gunna blast a tunnel right through you damn head!”

  “Okay, I’m putting it down. Take it easy, pal. We’re not looking for any trouble.”

  “Well, you found it anyway!”

  Stu set his handgun gently on the ground and raised his hands above his head. He knew that his friends would regroup soon and figure out a way to get the situation under control. Stu’s only job right now was to stand absolutely still and try to not get shot. This guy didn’t look like the type that was used to holding people at gunpoint, but the barrel of his rifle was being held rock steady just the same.

  Seconds later, Stu heard George say something that was somehow both comforting and troubling at the same time.

  “If you want to die, fella, keep doing what you’re doing.”

  Well, that’s not gunna help.

  Glancing to his right, Stu saw George come out from behind a tree with his rifle levelled at the stranger’s chest. His rifle was also being held as steady as a rock.

  Then, closer to the cabin, he saw his son step cautiously out of the trees. Unlike George, however, Leo had his hands held high above his head. He was followed immediately by another man holding the muzzle of his barrel to Leo’s back.

  “Drop it, prick!” The man holding Leo hostage shouted at George.

  George figured that he had Stu’s situation handled somewhat adequately, but after a quick look to his right, he couldn’t say the same for Leo’s. George knew that he couldn’t cover both of his guys by himself.

  Where the hell are you, Corey?

  Stu, Leo, George and Corey had headed out before sunrise on one last supply run before winter set in. It was early November and already the ground was dusted with a light covering of snow. As good as they had it at George’s cabin, they were still far from totally prepared for a long winter in the Ontario backcountry. One thing in particular had been completely overlooked and it was desperately needed. This mission would continue until they had gathered plenty, no matter how long it took them.

  Once Stu’s group was settled in at the cabin, everybody was given a job, some position that they were comfortable with and that they alone would be responsible for overseeing. Gwen and Grace, George’s wife and daughter, had volunteered to be in charge of the kitchen. They had an impressive food stores, but nobody had actually gone over it all or organized it in any way. After performing a thorough inventory, Gwen had informed them that they would run out of canned fruit and vegetables by midwinter. Meat and fish were never going to be a problem, as the forest and lake held plenty. They even had 10 hens laying eggs and a Holstein that was still supplying them with fresh milk everyday. Nothing green, however, would be growing in this soil again for months.

  Of all the things that they thought might send them out on another potentially dangerous scavenging run, fruit and vegetables had to be the most unexpected. With the camp’s need to sustain 20 of them for the foreseeable future they had immediately set out in search of more… a lot more.

  Stu led driving his son’s blue and white 1979 Ford Bronco XLT Ranger with Leo in the passenger seat. Their friends, George and Corey, followed closely behind in their newly acquired 1977 Dodge W100 Power Wagon. Of the four pick ups they had been awarded after defeating Malsumis’ Pack, the metallic black Power Wagon was the only one that hadn’t sustained any damage whatsoever. Like Leo’s Bronco, it was still in reasonably good condition and was in regular usage by the group.

  Two of the other trucks had sustained some minor damage in the battle, but they were both still perfectly operational as well. They were kept on stand by at the cabin fully fueled and ready to go at a moment’s notice. The fourth biker truck, however, had been completely destroyed. It now served as a sheet metal mausoleum down at the quarry with the decomposing remains of 14 gang members stuffed unceremoniously inside.

  After ransacking several unoccupied cottages and as many pantries, Stu and the guys had only managed to find a half dozen cans of vegetables. Thus far, the bulk of their collection consisted of canned tuna and sardines. More thorough searches had netted them a few additional propane tanks and some fishing equipment as well. These were all valuable items that they were happy to find, but it was nothing that would end their mission early. As a result, they were forced to venture out much further than usual. After an entire day on the road with very little to show for their efforts, they were forced to stop for the night and take up residence in a quiet cottage until morning.

  At sunrise, the four of them had a quick bite to eat and headed out again. Another light dusting of snow had fallen overnight, but with two fully capable four wheel drive vehicles it wasn’t nearly enough to concern them. More importantly, it looked like it was going to be another quiet day in cottage country.

  Being located in the Parry Sound region of Northeastern Ontario, only a handful of kilometres south of the French River, there was absolutely no activity in the area at all. The largest cities in the area were Sudbury to the northwest, North Bay to the northeast and Parry Sound to the south. They were surrounded on three sides, but each urban centre was over 100 kilometres away. By vehicle, the trip would take well over an hour regardless of the intended destination. God only knew how long it would take on foot, especially once the snow really started to pile up. As a result of the remoteness of their location, they had the entire county to themselves… or so it seemed.

  Harold and Robert had been out performing a bit of larceny of their own. The brothers were just preparing to exit a freshly looted cottage when a Bronco and a pick up truck had suddenly pulled into the driveway. If they didn’t act fast they risked losing everything they had managed to collect. Their 1985 Honda Fourtrax ATV and supply laden trailer were sitting around back, not in clear view of the men exiting the trucks, but certainly not well hidden either.

  Forced into making a hasty decision, Harold had burst out through the front door. He hopped off the front porch with his rifle raised and began shouting commands at their unwanted guests. Robert had decid
ed to run out through the back door and support his brother from the trees.

  Stu and Leo were caught completely off guard. Leo had the Bronco between himself and the gunman, so he quickly ducked down. He pulled the CZ 75 pistol from his holster and crawled off into the trees. Corey and George had made it into the trees as well, but Stu was absolutely screwed. He was caught out in the open with his rifle still lying on the front seat. Stu had managed to draw his Glock 17 handgun, but the rifle pointed directly at his head kept him from raising it into a more useful position. Stu was forced to set his weapon down and raise his hands in surrender. He could only hope that this guy was willing to listen to reason. He didn’t know yet that the gunman wasn’t alone.

  The stillness of the afternoon had caused Stu, Leo, George and Corey to foolishly lower their guard. It was a costly mistake and now Stu and Leo both had a rifle pointed at them. They had their trucks, their weapons, their gear and an assortment of scavenged items with them. If this went as poorly as it was looking, they would lose it all and be walking home with nothing… if they were lucky.

  That’s when Corey suddenly appeared behind the man that was holding his rifle on Stu. He had somehow managed to creep through the trees and get around the house to Stu’s left. He wouldn’t let his presence be known until he was within three metres of the gunman. The sound of Corey pulling the hammer back on his Beretta 92FS was the gunman’s first hint that he had messed up. It wasn’t necessary, of course, the handgun being perfectly capable of firing without the additional step, but that unmistakable double click definitely had the desired effect. The rifleman knew at that moment and without a doubt that he was no longer in charge of anything.

  “Listen to me very carefully, shithead.” Corey said calmly and in his most menacing tone. “I have no problem with ending your life right now, but that’s not what I want. I’d prefer to end this peacefully. We didn’t know this was your place and we’re happy to leave. One at a time, we’ll each set our weapons down, so we can talk it out. No harm, no foul.”

  “Okay, mister.” The man replied nervously. “That sounds fine. We don’t want to hurt anybody either.”

  “Tell your buddy over there to take his gun off of my friend’s son.” Corey said.

  “Robert, put your gun down.”

  “Hal, what the…?”

  “…Right now, Rob!” Harold shouted, his voice more than slightly panicked now. “The kid’s gun too, if you have it.”

  Robert reluctantly set his rifle down on the ground. He then removed Leo’s handgun from behind his belt and set it down next to it. He took a few steps away from Leo and placed his hands on his hips while staring back at his older brother in disgust.

  “Now you, George. Put your rifle down and step away from it.” Corey said, raising his voice just enough to be heard. “Your piece too.”

  George immediately did was he was told, grimacing slightly as he noticed the muddy snow start to ooze into the barrel of his beloved Glock.

  “It’s your turn, buddy.” Corey calmly said to Harold. “Just set it down and this will all be over. Nobody gets hurt. Just like everybody wants.”

  Harold slowly set his rifle down and closed his eyes. He was praying to God that he hadn’t just signed both his own and his younger brother’s death warrants.

  Corey was now the only person with a gun in his hand. He continued to hold it on the man as he slowly stepped towards him.

  “I’m gunna set my gun down now and then we can have a nice discussion like regular civilized human beings. Just like the old days.” Corey said. “That sound okay to you?”

  “Yes… please. That sounds really good, mister.” Harold replied.

  Corey lowered his gun as he pulled down on the decocker lever with his thumb. Not only did this put the Beretta on ‘safe,’ but it also caused its hammer to drop back down. While this placed the weapon in an inoperable state, it did so with a loud click. Predictably, Harold reacted with a nervous flinch. Corey’s devilish smirk was also easily predictable.

  Corey stepped to the side of the front porch, the whole time keeping a watchful eye on Harold and his younger brother. Using his hand, he took the time to sweep a fine layer of snow away from the porch before setting his pistol down on its frozen wooden surface. Seeing the slop that his friends’ weapons were currently resting in, he thought he’d save his own from the same fate. He swung his rifle off of his back and set it down on a freshly cleaned section of porch as well.

  “Everybody just leaves their guns where they are.” Corey said. “Come on in… Let’s talk.”

  The four from George’s cabin circled up with the two strangers. They stared uncomfortably at one another for a few seconds, nobody quite sure how to begin their discussion. These men all had guns pointed at each other only moments ago and now they were attempting to have a civil discussion. ‘Awkward,’ didn’t even begin to describe how they were all feeling at that moment. Stu and Corey both had the same thought at the same time.

  Man, I wish Brian was here.

  “Alright, let me first say that we have no intention of robbing you guys.” Stu said. “What’s yours is yours and what’s ours is ours. We won’t try taking anything from you and we’d appreciate the same courtesy.”

  “We’re just going through empty cottages out here, guys.” George added. “We don’t intentionally raid places with people living in them. I understand that things are a little rough these days, but that’s not what we’re about.”

  “Shit, up until this point, we haven’t even seen any people.” Corey said. “We had no idea somebody was here.”

  “Well, that’s a relief.” Harold said, slowly allowing himself to become more at ease. “We’re not interested in raiding occupied cottages either, fellas. We’ve been out since first light gathering up a few things. This was gunna be our last stop before turning back for home.”

  “Last stop? You mean this isn’t your place?” Corey asked.

  “No…” Harold replied, somewhat nervously again. “I suspect we’re out doing the same thing you are, gathering stuff for our families and trying to survive.”

  “Are you guys on foot?” Corey asked. “I didn’t notice any tire tracks in the driveway.”

  “We came in through the trees around back.” Hal replied, still apprehensive about mentioning their ATV. “We’ve been trying to keep a low profile out here.”

  “Well, like I said, you don’t have anything to worry about from us.” Stu said, offering his hand to Harold. “Stu Cooper. This is Corey Fletcher and George Brickham. George is a local resident. The young man over there is my son, Leo.”

  “Harold Weyr. Nice to meet you, guys.” Harold said, happily accepting Stu’s hand. “I regret the way it came about. This is Robert, my brother. We’re from the area too. Our family has lived up here for 35 years now.”

  “Nice to meet you too, guys.” George said.

  “George Brickham… the name sounds familiar.” Harold said as he shook George’s hand.

  “My granddad has had a piece of land up here since the 50s. His name was George Brickham too.”

  “Oh, for crying out loud.” Harold said, a smile instantly adorning his face. “I remember old George. Used to drive around in a green International Scout. Damn thing was beat all to hell.”

  “Ha! That’s the guy.” George replied.

  “I haven’t seen him in forever.” Harold then said, thinking back. “I take it he isn’t still around.”

  “No, he passed a while ago.” George replied.

  “Well, that’s a damn shame. Nice fella, your granddad.”

  “Thanks for saying that, Harold.” George said.

  “I don’t suppose he left you that old Scout.”

  “Ha. No, it’s long gone too, I’m afraid.”

  “Well, it’s just crying shame after crying shame with you, George.” Harold said with a warm smile.

  After a little more chit chat and getting more comfortable with one another, the guys were finally ready to di
scuss a little business.

  “I don’t know how you made out today, Harold, but we managed to find a few things.” George said. “All we’re looking for are canned fruits and vegetables, preserves, that sort of thing. Everything we have is up for grabs if you have any that you’re willing to trade.”

  Harold smiled and looked at his younger brother. Robert looked back with a smile of his own. This could turn out to be a very good day for them after all.

  “I’m sorry, fellas, we didn’t find any canned veggies today, but I have a feeling you’ll like my proposal even more.” Harold said. “I guess my only question is… when you say, ‘everything is up for grabs,’ do you mean anything… as in… one of those trucks?”

  George furrowed his brow and looked over at the others. The three of them all looked back with an equally quizzical expression on their faces.

  “Harold, Robert, I found a nice bottle of Jim Beam today.” George said. “What do you say we have ourselves a drink? I know I could use one. Then we can talk about what you have that might be worth a running vehicle.”

  “Now you’re talking my language.” Harold said. “Lead the way… and please, call me Hal.”

  As it would turn out, Hal’s family ran a fishing resort just across the county line. They had 12 small cabins and a main house that sat right on a large lake. As anyone in the cottage resort industry would tell you, renting out a dozen cabins only 14 to 16 weeks of the year wasn’t particularly lucrative. To help make ends meet, most found other sources of income as well. Hal and his wife, Nora, had decided to clear an unused portion of their land and build four rather large greenhouses. As they spoke, those glassed in buildings sat completely loaded with all sorts of vegetables in different stages of ripening.

  “So that’s our situation, guys.” Hal said. “We’ve got lots of veggies, but hardly any meat. Nobody that was staying at our resort brought any rifles along with them because they were all here on a fishing vacation. Rob and I have a small collection of weapons, but it’s not nearly enough. I can’t let them go hunting with every gun we have and leave the place unprotected, so we only have one or two guys go out at a time. The hunters do okay, but when the world went to shit we ended up with seven stranded families staying with us. We produce way more veggies than we need while we aren’t getting enough protein. Half of our crops are spoiling because we have no way of moving it anymore.”