The first conclusion… well… if he had not made it here the point would be moot. With the power out and the general infrastructure collapsed he was actually quite happy with where he was. Garson would be a nightmare if there was no way to keep order and the area was surrounded by mines and one old dump… and it was a bit too close to the city for comfort.
There were only two strips of land where he could have considered hunting or foraging but he would have had to compete with the others in the area.
The area around Panache Lake was, in contrast, far better for foraging and hunting—even fishing—which meant for someone familiar with camping and hunting it was quite easy to survive. The competition for that survival was also far lower.
And I’m definitely not going to complain about the relative comfort of Sheridan’s home.
He hoped others would be as lucky.
If they were not, then he had an ugly feeling that they were not going to find very many survivors. Assuming we find any survivors at all… he mused. We’ve already had our first casualty. Chances are we aren’t going to be alone on that.
As the little SUV pulled into the first subdivision full of year round cabins and small houses, the first thing they all noticed was the smoke rising from the chimneys of most of the homes. And that was a good sign, although the other two houses were cold and seemed deserted.
When he stopped, a few people came out of their houses. One man walked right up to the driver’s side window and Derek rolled down the window. “How are you doing out here?” Derek asked.
“Could be better… but definitely could also be worse,” he answered. His eyes grew wide as he noticed who it was. “Derek! Seeing you just made my day.”
“How much in supplies do you have?” asked Derek, racking his memory for the man’s name.
“Not a lot,” he answered grimly. “Why?”
“I’ve a bad feeling this might last awhile. Why don’t you take what you need and what can be shared and come up to our place?” Derek looked around. “We can send a sleigh… and forgive me, I can’t seem to remember your name.”
“It’s Rick. Give me the night and we’ll pack it up. Come back out early tomorrow,” answered Rick. “If you had Terrence with you, he’d have told you that.”
“Terrence died this morning,” answered Derek and Rick lowered his head. “We’ll come out tomorrow. Stay safe… wish I could stay and talk but we have other places to check out.”
“No other houses that way but that camp and they locked it up before heading south for the winter. We’re the end of the road here. The others who were further that way.” Rick pointed down the side road that branched off. “Came up here to stay with us.”
“You sure there’s no one else?” asked Jeremy.
“All accounted for,” answered Rick.
Derek nodded and then turned to Jeremy. “Let’s head back to your farm and we’ll draw up a plan to come get them for tomorrow. I don’t want to use too much of my gas. With the way things were in town, I have no idea when we’ll be able to get more.”
* * * * *
Picking through the destroyed remains of anything was always depressing at best. It always made Daniel doubt his choice of career. Unfortunately, in the circumstances he found himself now, it was far worse.
Behind him stood Lescelle and he was equally subdued. “I still can’t believe this is happening.”
Daniel shook his head, crouching down in the rubble just inside the barricade.
“You still have the same feeling of it being some horrible nightmare but… you just can’t wake up from it. You open your eyes and the nightmare is still around you,” said Victoria as she walked up behind them.
“You shouldn’t be out here,” said Daniel.
“And where would you keep me?” she asked plainly. “Locked in some ivory tower while the barbarians are at the gate?”
Daniel looked around and then turned to face her. “No… the tower is hardly ivory,” he answered. He continued before she could comment again. “I’m sure you’ve noticed the distinctive signs of an active war zone. The barricades are hardly able to hold long enough to keep another wave of them from coming through—and we’ve already established the fact that you are the last elected leader this region has.”
“That we know of,” she pointed out.
“If, and I stress if, someone else survived they aren’t here, which makes you our last leader. When order is finally restored, it will fall to you to sign the necessary orders.”
“But not make them?” she asked, and as Daniel was about to answer, she took a deep breath and held up a hand. “I know my strengths, Dan, and I also know my weaknesses. In some things—military or policing—I am not the best to lead. My role is mainly civilian.”
“That’s what I mean,” he answered. “You’ll need to decide if what we need to do is too far or not, or if we are under martial law or not. We can suggest the next course of action based on our own experience. But, let’s be honest—this situation has no precedent in Sudbury. We’re in uncharted territory.”
“We all are,” agreed Lescelle. “And Daniel’s right. If we don’t pull together, we’re all dead and what’s out there will never see the light of day.”
Victoria paced for a moment as she thought and then she looked at the second tallest of the three towers that formed the square. That was the home of the Sudbury police force. “Is there no way to open a line of communication to others?”
Lescelle shook his head. “The old radios were switched over to a closed digital system that uses cellular technology. We’d need an actual radio station or a HAM to broadcast… and then they’d have to have their radio on and just happen to be on the same frequency. Unfortunately, AM and FM are broadcast only.”
“At least we’d be able to give people hope…” she pleaded.
Daniel sighed. “If it ever gets safe enough, we can think about sending out a team to find a radio. But I haven’t the slightest clue on where to start. We’re talking needle in a haystack. To broadcast… well… the CBC station and that French one isn’t too far, but the former is straight through those crazy bastards’ territory and the latter I think was hit by a tank strike.”
“What about a HAM?” she asked.
“No idea where we’d find one of those,” answered Lescelle. “Those are typically used by hobbyists and enthusiasts. They aren’t used as a real method of communication anymore. Most have, as I said, switched to cellular or satellite.”
Victoria turned to him in surprise and something akin to hope and a dawning realisation came on her face, “The cell towers I can see being off… but satellite never would be. It’s just a matter of getting a signal…”
“Another long shot, but worth trying,” admitted Daniel.
Victoria grinned. “Why don’t you start in my car, Dan? I have a satellite phone.”
“I think I will,” groused Daniel as the tension finally broke.
Something caught Lescelle’s attention and he turned to Victoria and Daniel. “They found a woman near the bottom of the provincial tower. She’s badly dehydrated and a little confused.”
“A survivor or one of the raiders?” asked Victoria.
“Survivor, if they had to guess—she keeps asking for Daniel by name,” answered Lescelle.
Victoria and Daniel looked at each other as they both said, “Fitz.”
“They’re bringing her up to the main tower where one of the paramedics from the fire hall can take a look at her,” said Lescelle, motioning to the both of them to head inside. “Go on, see to your friend. We’ll take this from here.”
Once they were inside, and the chill of the wind cut out, Victoria looked over at Daniel and asked, “Do you think she’ll survive?”
“I suspect so,” answered Daniel.
“Why did you tell Lescelle that I knew her?” she asked, pointedly. “He came to me shortly before we retook City Hall. He said you said that I played tactics games with Fitz.”
&n
bsp; Daniel sighed as he looked up at her. “What did you tell him?”
“I didn’t,” she answered and when he lifted an eyebrow she continued. “I know better than to tip anyone’s hand. I’ve been too far down the rabbit hole that comes with the politics game.”
* * * * *
Helen and Tyrell, who had joined them from up the road, were only the first ones to arrive on the farm and Marissa knew that soon Sheridan would have a dilemma. Her home was rapidly filling up with neighbours who were using her living room as a town meeting hall and the fireplace to warm up.
The noise was enough to cause her two cats to vanish into the nether regions of the massive house—cold or no cold—and the two dogs had to be taken to the barn.
Still, this could not be strange to Sheridan.
So familiar, yet so not, Marissa thought as she watched Sheridan sitting on the couch in the living room, left alone despite being in the middle of it all.
Sheridan and Terrence had met at an SCA event—a community of hobbyists who studied medieval history and then took it one step further by also living that history.
Marissa saw Sheridan close her eyes and take a deep breath.
The one difference the SCA had compared to history ‘as it was’ was that gender roles were thrown straight out the window in favour of following a particular interest.
Terrence enjoyed the armour and the full contact fighting, but from the sidelines. His interest had always run to the more culinary aspects—fishing as it was done so long ago, and then cooking what you caught the way it had been done.
And he had been good at it.
Sheridan, on the other hand, had liked the full contact battles and archery. Marissa remembered Sheridan telling her that at the end of a particularly sweaty day of beating others and being beaten, of being desperately hungry when the smell of something delicious had reached her nose.
She had followed it—and met Terrence.
Their shared interests had led to the Manor they had built, and a shared interest in horses—particularly dressage and eventing—with her cousin led to the barns and the horses that now occupied them.
Terrence and Sheridan then hosted a few events in the fields, and feasts done the way it had been nearly a thousand years ago in their home.
Having so many people in her home had to now remind her of that, but yet… it was entirely different.
Lorraine was, naturally, in her element as she handed bowl after bowl of Irish stew to each of the waiting hands.
Sheridan pushed away an offered bowl, ignoring her grandmother’s scowl as she did, and looked up at the breezeway above.
Derek was trying get an accurate head count. With a shrug, he finally gave up. Sheridan sighed, pushed herself off the couch, and walked through the hallway into the foyer and up the stairs to the breezeway.
“How many?” asked Sheridan as she joined them.
“Well, I can tell you it’s anyone that didn’t rely on electricity—unless they were already off grid—for heat that’s here,” Derek sighed and ran a hand over his face. “Unfortunately there are quite a few people who didn’t make it. We've confirmed at least ten households that are dead. Froze to death in their sleep last night.”
“This is only one night,” pointed out Sheridan. “There are hundreds of homes past us and further down the road. Hundreds unaccounted for—they can’t all be dead.”
“Even if they aren’t, we have no way of getting to them,” said Marissa. “And what would we do if we did? What can we even do?”
“Anything we can,” answered Sheridan. “Everything we can. They’re our neighbours... there are seniors and families.”
Marissa sighed. Once Sheridan had made up her mind to help people she knew there was no way of dissuading her. It was because she could not sit by and watch other people in her community suffer.
Especially not after losing Terrence.
This will make her particularly stubborn, Marissa knew. Sheridan saw herself as part of that community and being a doctor only made that sense of responsibility all the stronger. “We could get a few teams of horses together and sleighs, but we’ve only two actual sleighs capable of carrying any amount of people.”
“What about the carriages?” asked Sheridan.
“In three, four feet of snow?” Marissa lifted a brow. “Sheri, I know this is hard—”
“What if we sent teams with a few horses as pack animals and the people with snow shoes?” asked Derek. “The horses could be used for the infirm and very young. The adults could walk, or even ski…”
“That would be better than nothing,” said Sheridan as she sighed and leaned on the railing. “In the meantime, we have more than enough scared people in our home that need an answer of what's coming next right now.”
Marissa knew that Sheridan would insist on everyone being aided somehow, even if it meant stretching their already thin resources to the very limit. She had no idea what Sheridan had in mind, but then the younger woman suddenly stood up straight.
Uh oh, Marissa thought.
Sheridan suddenly having a flash of inspiration was either going to be very good or good but it would be hellish to accomplish.
Moments later, she turned to the both of them and said, “I have an idea.”
“Christ,” breathed Marissa. “Here we go, Derek.”
Derek groaned and leaned his head on the railing.
CHAPTER NINE
“If I could have your attention, please!” came Sheridan’s voice from above their heads.
Lorraine looked up, wondering what her granddaughter had in mind while believing it was along the lines of helping these people out. She had no idea how but she knew that Sheridan would the right person to do it. As the murmur of voices quieted, they turned to look up at where Sheridan stood flanked by Marissa and Derek.
“I promise you that everyone here will survive the winter,” began Sheridan. Lorraine raised her eyebrows but remained silent as she wondered how Sheridan was going to pull that off. “But I need something from you.”
“What?” asked someone from within the crowd.
Another asked, “And how the hell are we going to survive all winter?”
Loud voices travelled back and forth as doubts filled the air.
Sheridan held up her hands. The murmurs had been steadily rising again, and at the sight of her hands, the people filling her great room silenced.
She explained, “We are going to have to work together on this but it can be done. First things first. We need to find any and all possible survivors in an area that can be reached on foot in half a day… half a day there and half back.” She let that sink in and watched as people seemed to slowly back away from the thought, gazing around at each other. “These are our neighbours and friends, and some are even family. We cannot leave anyone without what they need to survive through the winter if we have something to help them too—and I promise you—we can.”
Lorraine felt a stirring of hope at that statement, even she, like many others, had doubts. “I know you want to know how,” Sheridan continued.
“Got that right!” a man chimed in. A few voices murmured agreement.
“Let me get to that—” Sheridan took a breath. “Shared between all of us are enough resources and this is the key point. We need to share evenly so that we all survive. Of course, those with special needs will be accommodated.”
“How will we know who needs what?” asked someone.
“Sheridan’s a doctor!” answered Lorraine.
The answering silence was almost deafening. It was as though the din had been a wall she was leaning against and the wall had abruptly given way. And then the noise suddenly erupted again.
“Medical?”
“Or are you a vet?”
Derek whistled through the din and everyone silenced again. Sheridan nodded and answered, “Medical, and I’m a surgeon. My name is Dr. Sheridan Wither. Many of you know about my practise in Lively and that I also spend time at Sudbury Regio
nal in the ER. My cousin, Dr. Shiloh Withers, is the vet.” She smiled a bit. “We both have a thing for horses… in case you couldn’t tell.”
The comment allowed some of the tension to dispel. Lorraine looked around and saw that some of the more worried faces were suddenly not as worried as they had been. Given the circumstances she knew that knowing there was a doctor, period, in the immediate area had done a lot to help her peace of mind as well.
“Now that we have that out of the way, let’s get into the nitty gritty of how we’re going to survive the hardest winter we’ve ever had in living memory,” she began again. “First—as I said—we’re going to need to share resources. Food, water, blankets, tools and building supplies… There is literally a wealth of resources right under our noses. Secondly, and this isn’t going to be pleasant, we’re going to have to scavenge from those who didn’t make it and therefore won’t need their supplies.”
A murmuring of discontent began but there were more heads nodding from those who could see the necessity. “What if someone doesn’t want help... and also doesn’t want to share?” A voice asked.
“Leave them be,” Sheridan answered. “We won’t steal their resources, but if they don’t want the help, we won’t force it down their throats.”
Marissa pointed out softly, “I can see a few of your more reclusive neighbours being like that.”
Sheridan hummed a response and then turned back to the crowd. “If they choose to ask for it later, we’re open to that possibility. But being overly aggressive about it at this stage of the game will not gain us any allies and that is what we need the most right now.”
“How are we going to get around, Doctor?” asked a man.
“This is where the team work comes in. We are going to have to clear some of the roads ourselves—what roads we absolutely need—but only enough for basic foot and horse traffic. We don’t need to go far as where we happen to move around the most will get packed down pretty fast,” she answered. “This leads to the next big issue and that is where you are all going to live for the next few months. If your home is close, you can return to it if you want. And that leads to the next issue... how your house will be heated for the next few months.”
After Oil Page 8
