Northern Lights: A Scorched Earth Novel

by Boyd Craven III

  Another stringer of marking tape and I had a pretty good direction to follow. With three markers, each roughly twenty feet apart, I could anticipate. After the dead fall, things got considerably easier and I kept hacking new marks, freshening signs on the bark of trees and hanging ribbon at eye level. I was surprised because I had lost track of time, but the trail opened up to a sandy beach about twenty feet deep. What startled me even more was the beached canoe and the nude woman washing her hair.

  I stopped dead in my tracks, wondering where Tracy had found a canoe until she ducked her head under the water and ran her hands through it. She rose, pushing the water out of her eyes and I realized a few things all at once.

  Number one, it wasn’t Tracy. This woman was much younger and a lot curvier. I tried not to stare but it was difficult. Her blonde/red tinged hair looked almost brown as she squeezed water out of it when she noticed me.

  With a yelp, she dove into the water up to her chin.

  “I’m sorry,” I said, turning furious shades of red. “I uh…”

  “Turn around!” she yelled, her voice a bit lower than I had expected. “Who the hell are you?”

  I turned around, the image of her nude form burned into the backs of my closed eyes.

  “Tom Carter,” I said, not yelling.

  I could hear the water splash behind me and then footsteps. Something rattled in the aluminum boat and then she spoke up again.

  “I’ve got a towel now.”

  I turned, and she’d wrapped a towel around the lower half of her body, a bikini top covering her chest.

  “I’m sorry about that, I didn’t know there was… are you… do you know what’s going on?” I asked, confused and flustered and…

  “I don’t know what’s going on, but when that Charter pilot makes it back here he’s a dead man!”

  “You guys are up here on a fly-in trip?” I asked, trying not to stare as she pulled the second towel from the canoe and began drying her hair.

  She was definitely younger than Tracy, if I had to guess, she was in her mid-twenties. Freckles sprinkled across her face, chest and shoulders. She tossed the towel into the boat and pulled out a brush and roughly combed her hair out.

  “Yeah,” I’m Denise, Denise Wood. Do you know what’s going on?” she asked me. “Because they were supposed to pick us up a while back and now our supplies are running low.”

  “Nice to meet you, Denise. Wait, you said ‘our’ supplies; there’s more of you up here?” I asked her, shocked.

  “Yeah, about an hour that way,” she pointed behind her towards some woods, “What do you know?”

  “Our pilot had just dropped me off when he circled and crashed into the water,” I said, sitting down putting the canoe on my right shoulder.“He survived the crash and told us that he saw a big flash and then his chest hurt. He died and we couldn’t bring him back. He… We buried him. His chest, he had… a pacemaker. It had burned out because of the flash. All of my electronics are dead too… I think we were hit by an EMP.”

  I winced and waited for disbelief to wash over her features but she kneeled down in front of me. Eyes on her face, I scolded myself and was shocked when she sat in front of me, our knees touching.

  “You’re sure it’s an EMP and not a CME?” she asked.

  CME is Coronal Mass Ejection, a natural effect of solar storms from the sun. They can vary in intensity. The Carrington event in the 1800s had telegraph wires smoking and burning in some places. If something that strong were to happen today, it’d have the same effects as the EMP but I thought probably the Northern Lights we’d seen every night would have been brighter, and different… and no flash of light high up in the atmosphere. Also – why does a lady know the difference and how does…?

  My heart thudded hard in my chest and I nodded.

  “Pretty sure. Since our first day in, we’ve been prepping for the winter. I figured on paying a fine if I was wrong. I think they were supposed to have picked us up a week or week and a half ago?”

  “I kept telling my mom and dad we should be getting ready, but Noooooooooooooo,” she said drawing out the word comically, “I’m just a crazy republican who should be wearing a tinfoil hat, and my little sister is driving me fucking bat-shit.”

  “Wait, you’re a prepper?” I asked her, stunned.

  “I do have a tinfoil hat somewhere, but since you came upon me all unaware while I was nude,” I flushed at that, “I hadn’t had a chance to get it on my head straight. What’s it to you?” she asked, standing.

  “I’ve never met any prepper ladies your age,” I said, standing as well.

  “My age? You think I’m ancient or something?” she asked and I let out a surprised bark of a laugh.

  “No, I think you’re mid-twenties tops,” I said. “Most prepper ladies I’ve met are all in their forties and above.”

  “You’re not too far off, Tom Carter. It sounds like you have family or friends up here with you, too. Any chance one of them is a doctor?”

  Doctor?

  “What’s wrong?” I asked, suddenly worried.

  “My dad has a pain in his lower stomach. He’s had it for a couple days now, and today it hurt enough he didn’t want to stand up straight when he got up.”

  “My buddy Jordan is an EMT, he knows some stuff; we could go get him?” I offered.

  “Through there?” she asked, pointing to the woods behind me.

  “Yeah. There’s a trail between the two lakes… It hasn’t been maintained so I was sorta exploring…”

  “Yeah, me too, and finding a spot where my sister won’t drive me crazy. Still, can we go talk to Jordan?”

  “Sure.”

  “Good. Can I come along, or do you want me to stay…?”

  Let me think about that for a second…

  “You’re welcome to come along,” I said offering her my hand.

  She smiled at me and shook her head before turning and grabbing a pair of boots out of the canoe.

  “I didn’t bring clothes with me except the boots, in case the shore was rocky. Your wife won’t mind, will she?”

  “Ex-wife,” I said, “and I think she won’t mind one bit,” I said, turning so she wouldn’t see me smile.

  “Ex-wife?”

  “It’s complicated….”

  * * *

  Jordan and Brian were stacking wood as I came off the trail. They were singing the banana boat song with Tracy’s voice somewhere in the cabin singing “daaaaaaaaaaaaaayyyyyyyyyyyyyy-000000000000”. We’d left a lot behind in the last two weeks. Privacy, modesty and pride. Group camp songs started out as a joke but they hadn’t really caught on… but now…

  The song trailed off as Brian noticed me first and then Denise. She nervously put a hand on my shoulder and stood a little behind me watching. Jordan looked up and his voice trailed off into nothing and his jaw dropped open.

  “Six-foot, seven-foot, eight foot bunch,” Tracy sang as she walked out of the cabin with some trimmed ends of reeds to dump in the fire.

  Her voice faltered as well.

  “Hey guys, this is Denise. Jordan, her father is sick, she thinks he might have something serious going on.”

  “What… how?”

  “The other lake, I found the old trail,” I explained.

  “Hi,” Denise said, giving a small half wave with her right hand.

  I caught the motion out of my peripheral vision, but I could tell from her voice she was nervous.

  “Denise, that’s Brian, Jordan, and Tracy,” I said.

  “Your ex-wife?” she asked.

  “Yeah,” I told her softly and Tracy looked at me, her eyes narrowing.

  “Don’t forget to check your boots tomorrow morning,” I told her. “Jordan,” I said turning to him, “Do you think you can help?”

  “Yeah, I think so. Can I borrow some of your supplies?” he asked.

  “Sure. What are you thinking?”

  “Nothing yet, come on, let’s get it. Denise, is it? What’s your f
ather’s symptoms?”

  Denise’s left hand left my shoulder and she walked towards Jordanthen into the cabin with him. I started to follow but Tracy stopped me up short, a finger raised to me.

  “I….” I began.

  “Only you,” Tracy hissed.

  “Only him what?” Brian asked, amusement in his voice.

  “Only he could walk into the woods and find a swimsuit model,” Tracy hissed and turned and walked towards the door of the cabin.

  “Wow,” Brian said. “She’s right, though. What happened?”

  I told him about finding the trail and being surprised to find a bathing Denise.

  ”So if all of us carried the boat, we could probably get that and the motor to the other lake in a hurry,” I said.

  “You think it’s that bad?” he asked.

  “I don’t think Jordan was asking about my surgical kit, I think he was talking my medicine bag. The pain in the lower stomach, here,” I said pointing it out, “sounds like something I’ve heard of. It’s too high for the gall bladder, but she didn’t say he was feeling nauseated… and to me, that leaves— “

  “The appendix?” Brian supplied.

  “Yeah,” I whispered as the rest of the group came out of the cabin.

  Not only did Jordan have my surgical kit, he also had my medicine bag as well.

  “Want to take the— “

  “Yeah, get our boat. Everyone grab a corner,” Jordan said, his expression grim.

  9

  The wind pushed our hair backward as I guided the boat into the wind. The little five horse pusher didn’t leave a huge wake, not with five of us in the boat, but it did push us three times as fast as a person canoeing. Denise sat on the bench in front of me, directing me. Jordan sat next to her and Brian and Tracy had the front of the boat, watching for rocks or submerged tree limbs. I’d marked the trail head on this side of the lake with a dozen long orange stringers of marking tape, so going back would still be a pain but we could find the trail again, even in the dark.

  “What’s the worst case scenario if it is his appendix?” Denise asked.

  “If it is, and it bursts, it would be really bad,” Jordan told her - and it was all he would say on it.

  The sound of the motor carried much further than I must have thought, because by the time I saw the dock and the rough cabin, three figures were standing on the end of the dock. The largest figure had a hand over his eyes to cut down the glare, but even from a distance I could see he was standing stooped over a bit.

  “My dad shouldn’t be out,” Denise grumbled.

  I agreed, he didn’t look well, even though it was probably a good thing that he was able to be up and about.

  “What in the Sam Hell do you think...”

  The man’s words were cut off as I idled the motor down and everyone cursed as the boat suddenly slowed and our small wake pushed us forward, raising our bow slightly.

  “Daddy, it’s ok,” Denise said, grabbing the edge of the dock and pulling a rope down from the cleat to tie off ours.

  “Where did you guys come from?” the older woman, probably Denise’s mother by the look of it, asked us.

  “The other lake,” I answered.

  “He found a trail between the two when I was out exploring,” Denise said, not mentioning that she had been bathing.

  I was grateful for that because the looks I was getting from the three on the dock looked like they were ready to murder me.

  “So it’s normal for your company to just leave guests stranded out at the lake? What were you thinking?!” the man raged.

  “Daddy, they’re on a fly-in trip, just like us,” Denise said.

  Strangely, the third figure on the dock was a young woman. She was more slender than Denise and had blonde hair. There was no doubt the family resemblance, so it must be her sister. What struck me as strange though was the way her eyes followed the conversation. Never once did she speak, but more than once she gave me a strange look and then looked at Denise who was now talking to her parents.

  “This is my father Daniel Wood, my mother Debra, and my sister Tonya. Guys, this is Jordan, Brian, Tracy, and Tom,” she said, pointing everyone out and making introductions.

  “You’re stuck up here just like us?” Denise’s mother asked.

  “Yes, ma’am,” Jordan said. “When your daughter asked one of us to come and help Mr. Wood, I offered to come. I’m an EMT back in America, so I know quite a bit…”

  “But you’re not a real doctor,” Daniel said, disgust in his voice.

  “No, sir. An Emergency Medical Technician. Most of my job is stabilizing a patient enough for a doctor or surgeon to take care of the problem,” he said, leaving any hint of sarcasm out of his voice.

  “So what do you know?” Mr. Wood asked.

  “Your daughter described your symptoms to me; it’s possible you’re having an appendicitis attack,” Jordan answered.

  “That’s something easy,” Denise said, looking back to me as we all got off the boat and onto the end of the crowded dock.

  I looked around uneasily as it shifted under the combined weight of eight of us. The old wood posts were sunk into the lake’s bottom somewhere, and they looked old. I was getting nervous when Mrs. Wood asked us to come ashore. Mr. Wood, on the other hand, grouched and bitched the entire thirty feet it took to get there. Tonya… never said a word, but her expression made me think she wanted to.

  “But you’re not a real doctor,” Mr. Wood shouted from ahead of me.

  “Your dad doesn’t seem like he wants any help,” I told Denise, who’d hung back to walk beside me.

  “He hates doctors, he’s terrified of getting sick. He’s the healthiest guy I’ve ever known. He won’t even take aspirin for headaches,” Denise said, “That’s why it worried me when he mentioned he felt lousy enough to see a doctor.”

  “Wow, it must be pretty bad,” I agreed.

  “Is Jordan a good guy? I mean, does he know his stuff?”

  I knew why she was asking and, although I’d never seen him in action personally, I’d heard enough about his job from him and the exploits that sometimes made the newspaper. He’d fought off a PCP addict who had gone crazy after an OD, and then brought him back after he coded… Someone in a restaurant collapsed and he’d had to puncture the guy’s chest to release air pressure that had built up, causing him to be unable to breathe, and done an emergency tracheotomy when somebody was dying from an allergic reaction they didn’t know they had…

  “Honestly, I brought the surgical kit with me on this trip,” I started, “not because I know how to use it, but in the case it was needed, Jordan would have it,” I said. “I hope we won’t need it.”

  “See, it doesn’t even hurt anymore. I can stand up straight!” Daniel’s voice boomed.

  Mr. and Mrs. Wood had moved away from the dock and were at a picnic table where Jordan had been poking at Mr. Wood’s stomach area with a gloved hand. Denise looked behind her and smiled at her father’s antics. She caught the eyes of Tonya who motioned something with her hands. Her fingers flew, and her hands made different shapes and motions. It dawned on me that she was signing. I’d never learned sign language so I didn’t know what she was saying. I was even more surprised when Denise grinned and signed back.

  “Your sister is deaf?” I asked.

  “Yeah, since birth. She says my father’s being a baby,” she smirked.

  “Maybe. This is a lot to take in, and frankly, I’m kinda shocked he even let us ashore. They don’t know us and we showed up unannounced with their daughter and a boatload of strangers…”

  “Yeah, well, after my antics in college I’m sure he’s seen it all,” Denise told me without looking and kept signing to her sister who was grinning ear to ear.

  “Tom,” Jordan yelled, “Bring the bag, would you?”

  “Got it,” I said and reached in and got the kits out.

  We’d stashed them in one of the plastic baggies in case the boat tipped, a wave splash
ed or it started to rain. Instead, I was carrying it by the top of the plastic and I stepped off the end of the dock and onto shore. Tonya gave me a once over look and then signed and I handed the bag to Jordan, before backing off a respectable distance.

  “What do you think?” Tracy whispered, stepping up next to me.

  “I was talking to Denise,” I said. “But it seems like her dad doesn’t want much help…”

  “Not the dad, dumbass,” Tracy hissed, “the daughter.”

  I looked back and Denise smiled at me and shot me a questioning look before turning away and signing. Tracy’s head rolled back and she let out a hoarse laugh that brought everyone’s attention to her. She let it out, holding her stomach and then wiped at her eyes. She cupped two hands in front of her chest and made a motion with them and laughed loudly again.

  “Which one?” Both Brian and I asked.

  “You’re officially a dumbass,” Tracy said and walked towards the picnic table to see what she could do.

  “Why do I feel like I’m missing something here?” I asked Brian.

  “Because you are a man,” Brian said loudly.

  Jordan looked up, watching us all for a minute, a smile on his face, and then he opened the medicine bag and pulled out a blister pack of what looked like condoms. They weren’t, they were Azithromycin. A strong antibiotic I’d purchased through a straw man in Thailand, who’d mailed me what I wanted. Over there, you don’t need a prescription for antibiotics, just money. There was a thriving black market that existed for preppers buying all kinds of medication because a lot of it was legit, if it was for your pet.

  I know that sounds hokey, but it’s true. Veterinary medicine, in many cases, is the exact same as human medications. It’s not regulated the same way and you can actually get many different varieties at about 1/3 of the retail price if you were to have a script from your doctor and were paying cash for it.