“She’d prefer Fitz,” answered Daniel.
“Why is that?”
“Well, it’s because if something doesn’t go into the hole it’s supposed to she always made it fit,” he answered, shrugging. “She didn’t have it before she went into the Navy, but she certainly does now.”
“Military nicknames are like that,” groaned Lescelle. “It’s the slightly less savoury meaning to what you just said that makes me wonder how much of that is due to her mechanical background, and how much is due to something else.”
Daniel winced, but also shrugged. “That you’d have to ask her. Anyway, I need to get back to her and see if she needs anything before she hobbles up here with nothing but a chair leg as a cane,” said Daniel as Lescelle gave him a loose salute as friendly dismissal. “We can catch up later where it’s warm.”
“Sounds good to me,” said Lescelle as he turned back to his binoculars to continue keeping an eye on the downtown core. “Did you ever go and check on the Mayor’s sat phone?”
“Shit, no, I forgot,” admitted Daniel. “I’ll go now.”
“Check on your friend first, and then go check on it.”
“Yes, mother…” groused Daniel as he pulled the door to the rooftop stairwell open and sighed in relief as the wind stopped cutting through his jacket.
The climb down the fifteen flights of stairs to the bottom of the provincial tower and into the garage took easily fifteen minutes. The only reason he took it slowly was he did not want to risk falling and injuring himself. It was bad enough Fitz was hurt with the lack of real supplies but another serious injury would quickly deplete those they still had.
The stairwell was dark with only the red emergency lighting. It made seeing where he was going difficult, but not impossible.
Finally, he reached the bottom and sighed in relief. Even though they had to resort to the stairwell, he felt less sure of the climb and descent every day. It felt as if the building was leaning, but he knew that it could not be true. Just my own insecurities playing tricks on me, he thought as he pushed the door to the garage open and stood there a moment.
Something seemed off, but he could not put his finger on it.
And then he heard it.
There was a slight groan under his feet—one not made from human or animal. It was structural. That can’t be good, he realized and moved quickly from the provincial side of the parking garage into the municipal.
The sound stopped but his own heart pounded in his ears. He had no idea what caused the noise but he had no desire to tempt fate to find out. If he had a choice, he would never step foot on that side of Tom Davies Square again.
He took another deep, steadying breath as he remembered why he had come this way in the first place. Victoria’s phone. Can’t forget the damn thing again, he thought as he jogged over to her car.
Using the key, she had given him days before to do just this, he opened the car before searching it. Phone in hand, he locked everything back up before he ascended the stairs up to the main mezzanine of City Hall.
The stairs here were out in the open and part of the architecture, and he sighed in relief as he climbed up their wide sweeping steps to the fourth floor above. Finding Victoria, he handed her the satellite phone and her keys.
“Sorry for taking so long,” he said. “With everything that’s been going on this slipped my mind.”
“Understandable,” said Victoria and then she looked closer at him. “Is something wrong? You look like you’ve seen a ghost.”
“Well, not that,” he answered and sighed heavily. “Something in the provincial building side of the parking garaged wigged me out. It’s nothing.”
“Are you sure?” she asked.
He waved off her concern. “I’m just being jumpy.”
“Daniel, if there’s anything you suspect could be a problem it’s better if we’re sure about it rather than not,” she insisted.
“I feel like the building is tilting. I don’t see that it is,” said Daniel. “But when you climb or descend the stairs it feels like things aren’t exactly even anymore. Maybe it’s the emergency lighting throwing off my sense of balance, I don’t know.”
“You’re not the only one who has said that,” she mused, as she steepled her fingers in front of her. “Have you noticed anything else?”
“Yeah, the ground beneath my feet groaned under the provincial building too,” answered Daniel. “Just when I was in the garage. That’s what wigged me out so badly. And I know it wasn’t human or animal… it sounded like the ground moaned.”
She took a breath and looked up at him. “If anything else comes up like that over there, you need to tell me. We’ll look into it.”
“Are you telling me it’s possible I’m not just imagining it?” he asked.
“I hope not.”
* * * * *
Zachary stared outside the fire door from the top of the EMS building and into the blizzard. How bad is it when I can’t remember just how many days have passed since we lost contact with our central communications at City Hall? He sighed heavily. Food’s running low and I seriously have no idea how long this is going to last or if we’ll actually survive it.
Emilie came up behind him. “We could hunt.”
“We may have to,” he admitted as he turned from the door and then pulled it shut behind him.
A flashlight was the only thing that lit up the dark stairwell as Emilie flicked hers back on. “We also may have to figure something out for heat. The emergency generator is running low. We may have enough for another night or two— three at the most.”
“No fuel in any of the ambulances?”
She shook her head as she led him back down the stairs to the gloomy, but still lit enough to see where they were going and the main floor of the fire hall. “Already syphoned off what I could.”
He sighed heavily. “Well, thankfully this place is old enough to have an old wood stove hanging around. We could get wood and light a fire to hold us over.”
She looked at the radio in his hands and he sighed again. Emilie looked away and then turned back. “What do you think happened?”
Zachary compressed his lips into a thin line. “You sure you want to know?” he asked grimly.
“No, but knowing is better than being not informed,” she answered.
“All right,” he answered as he set the radio down. “The last burst clearly sounded like City Hall was under attack. All of downtown sounded like it was up in arms—and then it cut out.”
“It what?” she asked, shocked.
“I don’t think there’s a government anymore. Em, I think we’re it,” he sighed.
“How can that be?” she asked, her voice rising.
They were both cut off when a loud knock at the main door echoed through the fire hall. He picked up his gun, checked it and handed it to her. “Hopefully you won’t need this.”
He picked up one of the rifles and turned to head back to the roof. “You head to the door they're knocking on. I’ll keep the radio channel open so you can hear me. Channel forty-three, on secured. Only we’ll be able to hear each other.”
She nodded and headed over to the door while he sighed and walked back up to the stairs and out onto the roof. He looked over the edge at the four figures below and followed the footprints to where they led.
“You can stop banging on the door now,” he shouted. “We know you’re here.”
“Thank God, we’d given up hope,” a man answered. “Can we come in before we freeze to death? It’s just my wife and my two kids with me.”
He could easily see that the man was not lying. The small woman and the even smaller children gave that away. As pragmatic as Zachary was about his own survival, he was not about to let people freeze to death. He was not sure how he would feed all of them but freezing out there was even crueler a death than starving. At least with three adults able to hunt and forage they could cover better ground while one stayed behind with the children and to watch th
e Fire Hall.
“Emilie, let them in.”
“No one else hiding in the snow?” she asked.
Zachary blinked then looked carefully at the drifts for any signs of disturbances. “No, Ms. Paranoia, just two adults and their two kids. Open the door.”
The door opened from below and the four shuffled in. Zachary kept watch just in case something else moved.
Not sure what disturbs me most… the fact that I’m looking for a threat or the fact that there’s nothing out there at all. Once he heard the door clang shut, he headed back down the stairs to where the family were.
“Thank you for letting us in,” said the man as he extended his hand.
Zachary shook his hand and nodded. “Couldn’t let you freeze.”
“I’m glad for that,” he answered. “I’m getting the feeling that this is not…”
Zachary shook his head. “No, it’s not short term.”
“Daddy, I’m hungry,” came the little girl’s voice and Zachary winced inwardly. “You said that when we found someone that they’d have something to eat.”
The man looked over at Zachary awkwardly. “We haven’t been able to find anything.”
Zachary shook his head. “Don’t worry about it. We might have something left in the kitchen, but our pantry is pretty damn bare.”
“I’ll see what I can manage if you take me to the kitchen,” said the man. “I’m a shorthand cook.”
“Oh thank God!” interjected Emilie. “Zachary thinks cooking is hot dogs and mustard and I was getting tired of being the only one cooking… well… if I wanted it to be edible.”
“Your name is Zachary?” asked the man.
Zachary nodded. “Well, perhaps before we get too ahead of ourselves names would help.”
“Ironic that the cop would forget that detail,” pointed out Emilie.
“Shut up, you,” snorted Zachary as he rubbed a hand over his face. “It’s been a long few days. Give me a break.”
* * * * *
Kaine snapped the chair over his good knee, tossing the chair leg into the fire. The oldest of the university’s buildings had fireplaces—ones that, due to budget concerns, had simply sat unused rather than pay for the retrofit to either natural gas or electric.
He snorted as the irony of the same budget had seen that the chairs and tables—bought in the eighties and nineties—had not been upgraded and were made of wood that would at least burn.
He looked behind him as the door opened, and he fought off a shiver as the chill wind blew through the room.
A small group of students huddled by the door. Each one looked like they had emptied their closets for clothes to throw on to just keep warm. The fire would have attracted their attention. Kaine motioned for them to enter.
“Professor Kaine, do you have any idea when the heat will be coming back on?” asked the first one.
He shook his head. “No, I don’t. Now, come in and close the door. Get warmed up and then you’re going to help me with something,” he said, and he smiled slightly. “I have just the task for you all.”
The door closed and he waited until they had warmed up enough to peel all but the last few layers of clothing off.
“Now that you have warmed up,” he began, tapping his finger on his lower lip. “I have something I need you all to do, if we are to survive this.”
“You think it will be this bad for long?” asked one.
“I think it will be ‘this bad’ for a whole lot longer than we want it to be,” answered Kaine evenly. “And, since it will be, we will need to make certain preparations to survive.”
“Such as?” asked one.
“Obviously, the first one is heat,” said Kaine, pointing to the fireplace. “The second is food. We already have shelter and water.”
“How will we get either one?” asked another.
“One will lead to the other,” said Kaine. “Food we can scavenge from the cafeteria. Thankfully, with how cold things are, the food in there isn’t going to go bad anytime soon, and there is a forest full of trees just outside. That will do us for the short term. See if anyone else survived the winter down this way. If not, perhaps their homes and fridges also have food we can eat.”
The silence that descended was an oppressive pall. He sighed and shook his head. The others looked at each other, their eyes wide as reality set in.
“You don’t really mean that, do you?” a young woman asked, her voice no more than a whisper.
Kaine fought the urge to roll his eyes. “It’s not that I want to,” he admitted. “But I have to. We will have to. Once your boots and clothes dry, I will need some of you to search. Anyone you find… bring them here. At least here, if we pool what resources we have, we can survive and further plan for our future. Perhaps you are right—perhaps this will all blow over. But, in the meantime, it is far more prudent to make a plan, and then follow it through.”
CHAPTER ELEVEN
As night fell, the teams that had been sent out to find survivors began to filter back in. Sheridan watched as each team came in through the foyer. She frowned as she realized that there were very few new faces with those who came back in.
From the teams’ expressions, it was not because people had refused their help.
Derek took each team leader aside and listened to a very quick report, and his expression grew grimmer and grimmer with each one. Finally, he patted the last leader on the shoulder and joined Sheridan where she sat at the top of the stairs.
“The news isn’t good,” she stated.
“No, it’s not. I sent teams out in every direction and it’s the same story. Some have lived, and can survive on their own and have done the same as us here. In the spring, they will venture out and talk to us—if we’re all still alive. A few of the ones that were desperate came with them and have joined us. Only a few of the most hostile of hermits refused to talk or come out.” He took a breath and continued. “But, that’s the exceptions. For the most part at least three out of four houses with people actually in them—those people froze to death.”
“Would you suggest we keep up the search?” she asked.
“For a few more days, sure,” he answered. “There are places the teams haven’t checked yet. But I have a feeling that it will go from one out of four surviving to one in eight, and then there won’t be much point.”
“Do you think the worst has happened?” she asked seriously.
“I think we both know the answer to that.” He patted her shoulder and stood up, helping her up, then following her to the railing where she saw a demoralized group of people. “The real question is how are you going to counter this?”
Sheridan whistled over the low murmuring that signified a drop in the people’s spirit. It signified that morale was quickly sinking and her whistle broke through the low level sound. “Listen to me!” she called out. “Look to your right.”
Everyone did so.
“Now I want you to look to your left,” she ordered.
There was a long pause, but they eventually did and the expressions were now of puzzlement.
“Every single person you see with you now will survive the winter. If they weren’t here yesterday, that means that every single person that is now here will also survive the winter—we did that. You did that.” She pointed out to them and around the crowd. “So long as we are breathing we have that hope and that ability to get us through this winter.”
There were some nods, but she could see that she had not broken through to them all yet. “We’ve lost—well… we’ve lost a lot of people. And there’s no getting them back but we can survive and remember them. But we do no one any good if we lie down now and die.” Sheridan looked around at them and continued. “So we have more mouths to feed. So what? We also have more hands to supply and work to keep all of us alive. We have more with us and we will all survive.”
The worst of the morale was lifting, but she could see that she needed to get them rallied. “We can do this!” she sh
outed, punctuating each word with a slap on the railing. “We can do this!”
Derek saw what she was doing and joined her, slapping the railing with each word and falling into time with her chant. “We can do this!”
One by one each person followed picked up the same chant, clapping their hands and slapping a table or a counter near them. With each word, the voice grew until it was loud enough to hear clear into the barn. Sheridan suddenly stopped and everyone continued to cheer until it just quieted on its own. Although it was quiet, morale had been kicked up into a roaring fire that reignited their hopes for survival.
“We will eat and we will feast tonight. And then we will rest in the warmth of our beds—and tomorrow morning we will get back up and we will do this all over again until we know that we have found every last survivor. We will continue the work on our defences and we will continue the work that will get us through this winter,” she affirmed, pausing. “Because this will not defeat us. Together nothing can defeat us. Are you with me?” she asked.
“Yes,” came a few voices.
“Are you with me?”
This time she was sure the cheers carried straight across the river.
* * * * *
The meeting room was hardly crowded. There were only a few professors left on campus as the holidays loomed close and most had left to be with family elsewhere. Kaine and a few others were the only exceptions as they had stuck around to grade papers when the snow started in and now were stuck at the university.
Not that I don’t normally stay here anyway, he mused looking over at the others who appeared to have just arrived and were breathless. The members who had just arrived seemed curiously rushed, not having combed hair or ironed their clothes. Kaine sat down at the table and looked around.
“The streets are crammed full of snow,” said a professor. “Still.”
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