“Yes, sir,” answered Shiloh.
After all long pause, a question came. “Why’d you come this far?” asked Radzinsky.
“Medical supplies,” answered Shiloh honestly. “We didn’t expect to find survivors. All we’ve found so far has been a lot of death between the farm and here. Saw one smoke column coming from a house. It didn’t look burnt so we’re guessing someone there is alive.”
“And that’s all you saw?” asked Radzinsky, a worried look on his face.
“You?” asked Derek.
“What few made it here I let in,” he answered gravely. “Me, one of the paramedics and a few of the firefighters in the hall, plus a family from the highway, are all that’s left. The other paramedic and the other firefighters tried to head back to Sudbury. I don’t know… I doubt they made it.”
For a long moment, they fell silent.
“There’s very little food here, so if you’re after that expect disappointment,” said another voice, this time coming from the side of the building.
They turned to face the other woman still dressed in the winter clothing of a paramedic.
“Didn’t come for food,” answered Derek. “We came for what’s in your ambulance and fire support vehicle.”
“Medical supplies?” asked Radzinsky in disbelief. “Those are a bit advanced for the lay person.”
“My cousin is a doctor—a surgeon to be downright technical,” answered Shiloh. “She’s the one who sent us.”
“I thought you said you were a doctor?” asked Radzinsky, puzzled.
“I’m a vet,” she answered.
“If they’ve got a doctor, Zack, our best hope for surviving this is going with them,” said the woman.
“She just said she was a vet…”
“My cousin's the doctor; and she's the one still at the farm,” pointed out Shiloh.
Zachary thought for a moment and then nodded his agreement to Emilie. “All right, you’ve a point.” He turned to Shiloh and Derek. “You’ve got two extra horses, and we’ve got kids here.”
“You got something we can rig as a sleigh?” asked Shiloh.
Zachary laughed. “We have something better than that.” He nodded to the woman. “Emilie, open the garage door and let these people warm up their horses.”
Once inside, Shiloh wasted no time in checking each horse over to make sure there were no injuries. The ice and snow outside had been progressively crunchier as the day progressed. And she had concerns that the leg wraps had shifted or had been torn. In the numbing cold the horses would not have felt anything untoward.
Derek did not say anything and let Shiloh do as she pleased. “You said you had something better?”
Zachary nodded and led Derek to the back of the garage and pointed, saying, “I’m guessing it’s for parades, although why it’s out here I have no idea.”
Derek stopped and stared at what he saw and then started to laugh. Zachary looked at him strangely, but Derek just continued laughing. “Shiloh!” Derek called.
Shiloh took a few moments and then walked over, looking where Derek was pointing. “For the love of…” she breathed. “How long has that been here?”
Zachary shrugged but Emilie answered, “Oh, that… I think it belongs up at the old Anderson Farm as part of their exhibit. I think the city brought it here for storage. Why here specifically I have no idea.”
Zack looked over at Derek and saw him trying his best to stifle his laughter. “What is it and why does Derek find it funny?” asked Zachary.
“It’s an old firefighting wagon, but it’s modified to slide on skis,” answered Shiloh. “As to why it’s here, it’s because the original Fire Hall it belonged to was this very one—or at least the one that once stood close to this spot before this one was built a few years ago to replace the one they had to tear down.”
“I’d feel better if we it brought back to the farm,” pointed out Helen.
“If you bring us with you, you can have that,” answered Zachary.
Derek nodded. “Done.” He turned to the constable and pulled him aside. “Any idea what the hell is going on out there?”
“You mean why we suddenly have no government?” he asked and snorted a short bark of laughter. “Yeah, yeah suspect I do.”
“So what happened?"
“The government, our own government, has been lying to us for years,” he answered. “We ran out of oil—period. Nothing was actually producing anything but pollution, if you ask me. It was all for show. And the proverbial mess hit the fan because people found out and demanded answers.”
“Who did and how?” asked Derek, suddenly feeling as if he could not get enough air.
“I don’t know the details. What I suspect is the Americans were buying from us and we were digging up what we could, but cutting with oil from somewhere else. Who was stealing from someone else,” answered Zachary. “It was at the point where it was like paying a credit card with a credit card, but only having so many credit cards.”
“You run out of credit.”
“Right. So we keep shuffling the balance around from card to card or sharing the load. Doesn’t seem so bad. But the demand kept creeping higher and higher, and the available balance kept creeping lower and lower,” explained Zachary. “Eventually the bubble just burst. Apparently the Middle East attacked Russia, then Russia moved into another country that had the rumour of having oil—and they didn’t. The US and Canada went after Russia, which in turn went after China… and suddenly everything went dark. The last we heard from any sort of ‘person in charge’ was that we were all under martial law. No one knows who gave the order. But I think someone discovered that no one actually had because Ottawa ended up bombed the hell out of.”
“And the US?”
“No idea, but if there’s no ‘intervention’ or even rumours on the airwaves, so you can guess what happened,” answered Zachary. “We went to war over oil—and everyone lost.”
“Did it go nuclear?” asked Derek.
“Not that I know of,” Zachary responded thoughtfully. “Before it went silent there wasn’t anything said about expecting nukes or firing them off, so, thankfully, I think we’re clear on that.”
“When you said Russia…” Derek trailed off. “So, Sheridan was right. Rome has fallen.”
Zachary looked at him in confusion and then he nodded as realisation hit him. “So it has,” answered Zachary. “Much as I hate to say it, we’re screwed. How screwed and for long remains is the question we need to ask.”
CHAPTER FIFTEEN
They stripped the Fire Hall, the ambulance, and fire support vehicle of everything useful. The only problem was that they could not rip out anything built into the ambulance. And, much as Derek wanted to, there was no possible way to drive the vehicle back to the farm.
While it had the necessary fuel to do so, the road was simply impassable. The horses had no issue because they had feet and the ability to jump over obstacles. The truck would only get bogged down and stuck.
The unexpected boon was in the form of the historic fire wagon that was set up as a sleigh, perhaps for a parade. But the skis looked original as did the rest of the wagon. Derek suspected that it was always meant to be a sleigh and not a wheeled cart. Especially since Northern Ontario was prone to blizzards that could drop snowfalls in excess of four feet in a day. When the typical daily accumulation gathered, pulling a wheeled cart behind a team of horses was not only impractical but also impossible.
Shiloh pointed this out to Derek. “You know this greatly depends on the fact that there is the right tack and harness for the horses to even attach to that sleigh and that it wasn’t somehow ‘fixed’ for towing behind a truck.”
Again, luck was on their side when she looked the sleigh over and saw that it was never changed over—the yoke and bars were still intact and in good shape. They just had to find the harnesses.
After searching the fire hall, they found them in a store room and Shiloh immediately checked each le
ngth of the leather for signs of wear and tear.
Finally, after a few hours and right before the sun went down, she proclaimed, “Everything looks good. It will take at least four of our horses to pull that rig and the yokes are intended for that big a team. We’ll have to extend the harnesses to get them set right, but with four of the horses on the sleigh and the other two riding guard we should be fine.”
They retired for the night after helping Shiloh prepare everything.
Again, Derek found himself alone with his thoughts.
The world, as they knew it, was gone. Anything that resembled government had toppled and scattered and it was not just Ontario, or Canada—it was worldwide. That one thing, even if a well substantiated rumour was enough to make him wonder if they could do it. Could they survive this?
They had to.
If they survived the winter their chances of surviving the following winter went up astronomically. This spring and summer meant that they would have enough time to prepare for the winter. It was like going back to the old pioneer ways in the hardest and cruelest way possible but if a Northerner was anything it was a survivor. The adjustment from what they knew to what would become the new normal would take some time, but he suspected that they likely could bounce back eventually.
After all, when old Rome had fallen there had been a setback, but not a total loss of available resources and people had bounced back. Civilization had bounced back - just with new governments and power bases.
It had happened again but they would survive it and bounce back.
He honestly had no idea how easy it would be for people to accept this but he was already beginning to accept it himself. The young would simply forget-- they were too young to have really have gotten used to the old world in the first place. Not like their parents and grandparents who would find this transition extremely difficult.
Derek caught his breath.
Old world.
He had already begun to think of life before the end of oil as the old world and this new one after it as a new world with the potential of a new civilization—and new centre of power—springing up around Sheridan. Whether she realized this was another matter. She had the property and now she had the defences around it, as well as the people around her, to make it happen. Derek knew Sheridan. She was not attracted to power or prestige. Everything she did she did to prove to herself—and others—that it was all possible.
Terrence, on the other hand, would have done it for the power he would have and hate every second of it. He had been an interesting paradox. Derek had never known what to make of his friend. On one hand the man had been friendly enough, if a bit brusque with people and not exactly the best person to put in a customer service oriented career. He always had sworn like a sailor and then, in the strangest contrast, preferred the peaceful hobby of shore fishing with a bobber at the end of his line. Pursuits that included reading and games of strategy instead of anything directly active had been some of his favourites.
Sheridan was also a bit on the shy side and preferred to read on her own or spend time with her horses, and the small group she gathered around her. She never had really liked crowds but, unlike Terrence, she could not leave a person without help… And it never mattered what kind of aid either.
He supposed that was how she ended up becoming a doctor in the first place.
They were not the first choice of leading a new nation but by sheer luck they had the resources, and when pushed, Sheridan definitely had the ability to lead. That, he knew, had everything do with being a surgeon. She might not like dealing with people but she could at least be diplomatic when the situation called for it.
When pushed she had the ability to make snap decisions without waffling. This would take them out of any potential dark age and give them more than a fighting chance to survive.
The thought that haunted him was how lucky they were.
From what he could see in this little corner of the world the winter itself decimated the population. Only ten, maybe twenty, percent had survived the winter and he knew that there would be more deaths coming.
Even on Sheridan's farm.
Derek kicked his feet around the ground, and something strange, that was not snow or ice caught his boot and bounced away. He crinkled his brow as he walked over to it, picking it up.
It was a rock, almost perfectly rounded—likely one of those used in the garden as a border.
He had no idea where it he could use it but decided he would take it with him. He slipped it into his pack, still wondering at his own sanity for taking a bloody rock with him when space was so valuable.
The morning was clear, crisp and cold. Shiloh had harnessed four of the horses to her own standards to ensure the four would work as a team.
“The next question is who will drive the sleigh?” asked Derek.
“This I can do,” answered Helen, smiling as she climbed up to the driver’s seat and buried herself under the layers of blankets.
The two children, their parents and Zachary climbed up and joined her as did Marissa and Emilie, although Zachary and Marissa faced the back as a rear guard. Shiloh and Derek mounted the other two horses and led the sleigh out into the sunny morning. Before, the only sound other than the crunch of snow and whinny of horses had been minimal conversation. Now, the jingling of the harness and the four beat staccato of a team of horses pulling the heavy sleigh through the snow greeted the morning.
Derek found himself smiling at the sound, even though it was an old-fashioned sound.
“It’s like Christmas,” chimed one of the children. “We could sing Jingle Bells!”
The adults smiled at the child’s sense of adventure and all laughed softly while Derek found that his mood was far brighter and lighter than the previous day and night. “We could,” he admitted. "Why don't you start?"
The two kids started singing and the adults joined in as they made their way toward Panache Lake. This time laughter and singing rang out in the still atmosphere with the children pointing out objects that caught their fancy as they passed them. The older of the two seemed interested in the driving of the sleigh and Helen indulged him when they had finished singing.
“What day is it?” asked Emilie, suddenly and surprisingly.
“Sunday,” answered Helen, after she looked at her watch.
“Christmas Day,” mused Derek, reflecting on the singing of Jingle Bells. “What did you want Santa to bring you?”
“I got it,” answered the oldest of the two. “I wanted to ride in a fire engine, but I got something even cooler… a ride on a fire fighter’s sleigh pulled by horses through the country on Christmas. It’s like being in a Western.”
“And you?” he asked the younger of the two, the little girl.
“I wanted a horse. I didn’t actually think I’d get one…” she admitted.
Derek snorted in a short laugh. “Yeah, me neither.”
The day was very quickly falling to dusk and he was rather surprised to note that he hadn’t been aware of the speed with which time had flown past. They were going to need shelter for the night and the mother was not looking very good. He looked up and noticed a column of smoke from a house that was a good distance from the road. He knew that house. It was the shop and garage for a major electrical lines contracting company. The fact that someone seemed to be alive was promising. “We could see if someone there is up to some company,” he suggested.
They turned the sleigh up the driveway and stopped by the fenced yard where numerous large trucks, the kind used for fixing electrical lines, sat abandoned. Some were missing, but no signs of forced entry hinted that those inside belonged—as if they simply never left.
* * * * *
“The team we sent out yesterday didn’t check back in,” said Lescelle as he walked into the council chambers.
Daniel looked up from the map of the city he was poring over and his eyebrows crinkled. “What do you mean they didn’t check in? You mean they didn’t return?”
“Same thing in this day and age,” answered Lescelle.
He leaned back in the chair and crossed his arms. “All right, we send out another team. Pick up their trail. It stopped snowing two days ago so their tracks should still be easy to find.”
“You want to send another team out there?” asked Lescelle, obviously not pleased with Daniel’s suggestion.
Daniel stood up and stretched. “I do… but I’m going out with them. I’ll lead the team and we’ll track them down. Maybe they found something and haven’t been able to figure out how to get it back here.”
The look on Lescelle’s face told him that he clearly did not indulge in Daniel’s optimism. In truth, neither did Daniel. But he hoped that it was true. The alternative was that they had just sent out eight good men and women to their deaths, and tomorrow morning were likely about to send another eight.
And one of those eight would be him.
Victoria walked in and said, “Did I hear you correctly in that you are going out with them?”
“Yeah, why?”
She shook her head. “Nothing. I can’t keep you here against your will but I wish it wasn’t you that had to go.”
Daniel looked at her closely, and for the first time he noticed that she was not just thin. Victoria looked gaunter with each passing day. Her hair hung limp, although she had resorted to pulling it back into a tight bun. For a woman the same age as his daughter she looked like she was closer in age to Marissa and his late wife, Fiona.
“Are you sick?” he asked, kicking himself for not realizing it earlier.
She laughed hollowly. “End stage leukaemia. Knew before I even came here on the holidays,” she answered, hugging herself as she looked up at his horrified expression. “I was drafting my resignation when all this went down. I wanted to live out the last of my days with my husband and family. Now I’ll live them out here instead.”
“Why didn’t you tell me?” he asked, gently grasping her elbows.
“What could you have done, Dan?” she asked quietly and then shook her head. “I was on borrowed time two weeks ago. I still am. If it has to be here, I can’t think of another place better to be laid to rest than where I spent every waking hour.”
After Oil Page 14
