Zachery’s eyes widened as he got up and retreated. His apologetic shrug was the last thing Derek saw before the other was out of sight.
“When is this going to end?” he asked as he ran a hand down his face.
Emilie glanced at him and the look in her eyes spoke volumes. “You're lucky to be alive, you know.”
“I know,” he answered as he leaned his head to the side pillow.
To her credit, she was so quick he didn’t have time to notice what she was doing. “You would make a good nurse,” he pointed out. “I guess that's why you're a paramedic.”
She chuckled as she stood up and washed her hands in the sink nearby. “Truthfully I started out as a nursing student, but there aren't enough paramedics either… so I did that instead.”
She looked over at Derek, thinking in the prolonged silence from him that he had fallen back to sleep, but he was staring out the window. Emilie had a fair idea what was bothering him.
No one liked to be dependent on another and he was fiercely independent which only made it far worse. Most with his degree of independence were often the crankiest when they fell ill—true terrors within the nursing wards.
Derek was not, although he certainly had his own moments to test their patience, however, they were fewer than others. He swung to the other end of the spectrum which probably meant he was more bothered by the fact he was now a liability—to his own mind, anyway—instead of being out there and doing something useful.
“Can I give you my two cents?” she asked, before she grinned. “Although, given they stopped making pennies before all this went to shit anyway I know just how much my opinion will be worth anyway.”
“Never say that,” he answered, looking away from the window and back to her.
“You may want to hear what it is first.”
She took a breath and continued, “Crap happens to everyone—I wouldn't have had a career picking up the pieces otherwise. And you are bouncing back really quickly. Sometimes getting this sick is a sign that it’s time to take a break. Send the kids after any books you want to read and fall asleep with a book on your chest. You can run full tilt later.”
“This isn't very relaxing,” came his answer.
“Not now it isn't, but you're almost ready to go back to your own bed or at least be down here and not have tubes running everywhere,” she pointed out. “In fact—I think—if we can get you standing up today, Sheridan said you could at least have that back.”
Derek looked up, his eyes wide and a bit of hope returning to them. “Really?”
“Yes.”
He grinned slowly before running a hand down the bottom of his face. “Can I get a shave with that too… perhaps an old fashioned one where I don’t have to do it?”
“Oh, now you get demanding,” she chided lightly, rolling her eyes before smiling. “Yeah, I think we can arrange that.”
* * * * *
With the warmth of the spring sun, Kaine and his students were able to move around a little easier. The snow melted off the roads and this made walking between the buildings on campus far easier.
“We could break down some of the buildings and other structures for what we need,” suggested Niala, as she held the door into the athletics centre open so that Kaine could hobble inside. “I still have no idea what we will do for seeds and seedlings.”
“What do we have so far?” asked Kaine.
“Well, a few of the labs had plant related experiments running, so they had a small supply of seeds that could be grown hydroponically, as well as the equipment and tubing,” she answered, tilting her head to the side. “Since those students are no longer here we brought their ongoing experiments and all the equipment here.”
“Niala…”
“We have tomatoes, a few varieties, actually—including cherry tomatoes. We also have lettuce, squash, and zucchini,” she answered, and she shrugged. “It’s not the greatest variety.”
“It’s a start and a whole hell of a lot better than what we did have,” he answered, tapping her on the nose with a finger. “Which was nothing.”
“True enough,” she conceded. “Aline tells me that they’ve managed to find enough fishing gear to keep us supplied with fish as well.”
“We’ll have to be careful about that,” said Kaine. “While we don’t look like we have that many mouths to feed we could still run into the problem of overfishing… and then we’d be starving all over again.”
“We could ration what we are allowed to eat, and therefore catch,” suggested Niala. “Rely on other sources of food. The fresh vegetables are going to be lean, but at least nutritious.”
“Yes, but even what we have is not a great variety, and we would need at least two levels of the ‘ponics up and running to be effective,” he answered, blowing out a breath as he did so. “It’s good enough to keep us from starving and to supplement what we’ve managed to scavenge in the way of dried and heavily preserved food. We have enough canned goods to last us another winter, if we don’t dip into it. But we need to expand what we have or the others will dip into what we have stored for later… just for something different.”
The door clanged open and one of the other students ran along the tile of the pool and over to Kaine. He grasped Kaine’s elbow and said, “You need to come see this.”
“What is it?”
“Dragon boats from across the lake,” said the student. “Looks like the Mayor and some of the local police from City Hall.”
Kaine’s eyebrows lifted, and he looked from Niala and back to the student again. “Truly?” Kaine asked.
The student nodded, and Kaine motioned for him to lead him from the athletics centre. “I found a golf cart and got it running,” said the student. “That way you don’t have to walk all the way down to the shoreline. Professor Roy is waiting for you. Given the situation, she felt it best if you handled this.”
“I appreciate her thought,” said Kaine, tapping his cane on the floor of the golf cart once he was seated. “Let’s go see what our Mayor has to say.”
CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT
A Chinese inspired dragon boat, once used in yearly races, finally touched the southern shore of Lake Ramsey. Victoria stepped out of the boat and made her way into the shadow of the buildings that formed Laurentian University. The area surrounding the small cove was at the bottom of a set of hills where on top the main part of the university sat.
Not only did it appear to have survived the winter, it showed definite signs of still being in full operation.
Lescelle stepped onto the pavement of the road that ran by the lake, his expression one of surprise. “How is this possible?” he mused.
He was silent and still where a set of lights formed a crossroad before continuing to a second hospital—one for psychiatric patients—and the university. Given the order in the area, he knew that if the patients in that hospital had been the more violent type then the university would not look as pristine as it did. But they were not—most of them were simply troubled and went there for counselling. Survivors of trauma so terrible they had nightmares haunting them at night, and others that were judged harshly simply on the fact that they did not fit in.
Although, quite frankly, he no longer judged things by how they appeared—even if he had needed to talk to someone professional at the same hospital once.
Strange how the pain of that hits you when you least expect it, he thought, frowning.
The rest of the city had been normal—full of regular people until the law and the ability to uphold it had vanished. Afterwards they had fallen head first into complete and total anarchy. Not just that—it would have been tolerable if a bit chaotic—but also into violent, angry gangs and mobs out for blood for no other reason than to take what the other had.
More worrying was that these scattered gangs had organized and equipped themselves enough to take on and force the police out of their own base. He knew just who had led them too.
Colonel Harnet.
&nb
sp; But first they needed to just survive to the next day.
It was then that Victoria walked over to the bow and plucked the bull horn out of the boat. “Madam Mayor, what the hell are you doing…” Lescelle ran over to her to stop her but was not fast enough. “No, wait…!”
Even without it at full blast, the opening screech of turning it on was plenty loud. Victoria then dropped it back into the boat.
Just that had been enough to attract a bit of attention. Up the sloping curve of the approach they could see a group of people.
Victoria started walking and kept her hands where they could easily be seen so that she would not be perceived as a threat.
“Good morning,” she greeted.
“Of all the things to see—the police and the mayor,” said the first one. “I am actually quite relieved to note that you survived the winter. Gives me hope that eventually we can rebuild—so long as part of our elected leadership still lives.”
“Unfortunately not, unless there are others out there I don’t know of,” Victoria answered gravely. “I don’t come from a place of strength. In fact, quite the opposite. We were chased out and I think those who covered our escape didn’t make it… which means what resources we have is what you see. We came here for sanctuary—unsure if we were even going to find it but to go back is certain death.”
The man thought for a moment and looked over at his peers. He held out his hand and she shook it. “Well, you have it. My name is Doctor Kaine, and these are my colleagues Professor Charisma Pan and Doctor Nielsen Roy.”
“Pleased to meet you…” Victoria answered. “You have me at a bit of a disadvantage, although this is Henri Lescelle. He and a few others were instrumental in making sure we survived the winter.”
“Speaking of which, anyone else manage to make their way here?” asked Lescelle.
Kaine shook his head. “No, unfortunately not.”
Victoria took a deep breath and released it. “Oh.”
“Were you expecting others?” asked one of the other professors.
“Yes,” answered Lescelle. “But it’s entirely possible they could make it here later.”
“Well, then, perhaps it would be better to wait for them in reasonable comfort,” suggested Kaine, motioning back up the hill and to the main campus. “Or, at least, the best we can, considering the circumstances we find ourselves in.”
* * * * *
Before everything, this room had been a private living room. What some had called her “white room” as everything in here had been white and shades of pale cream. While the windows were not wraparound, it was a place of retreat and serenity after a long day.
It actually faced the front and was only accessible by going through a different room in the central hall between the kitchen and the garage.
Sheridan’s personal desk and library were within this space. It was only natural that—due to its proximity to the garage—it would suddenly become her private clinic and sick wards.
It was here that, once everyone had retired for the night, she padded into the room—nodding to Emilie as she did so—to check on her patient.
Derek slept soundly and a quick check revealed that his chest was finally sounding far better than when Abigail had first pulled him out of the flooded barn.
Sheridan allowed herself a moment close her eyes and thank whatever deity for letting her skills save him despite not having everything she would have liked on hand.
She had no idea how she could have lived with herself—as a doctor and the man’s friend—if he had died to save her horses.
Especially after so many had already died to hold onto the Manor.
Sheridan was aware of his misgivings about his continued usefulness but the truth of the matter was she had no idea how to do half the things he did. Derek was far more important to all of their continued existence. She hoped he would forgive her for suddenly resembling a helicopter in her desire to make sure he stayed healthy this time.
There was no doubt in her mind that he would find some other way for her to have to use her medical knowledge and probably it would be on him again.
Derek was frustrating in that exact same way as her husband had also been. She pulled the blanket up over his shoulders with a satisfied pat and got up to head for her own bed.
Sheridan never did see one eye open and follow her before he closed it again.
The next morning Sheridan walked back into the clinic and began her rounds as Derek watched. He did not often get the chance to watch people. A necessary skill as a salesman was being able to read people and to do that required a bit of practice by watching other people.
She was the surest of herself in this environment. He understood why. As a doctor and surgeon her home was a hospital but, unlike a nurse or personal support worker, her job was not to tend to the sick, injured or dying but to fix the problem. Diagnose, identify the issue and then formulate the plan of action to solve it—if it could be solved—or alleviate it as much as possible. Ease it if the worst was expected. The tasks for others were set down by her and followed as if they were law.
And they were… At least here they were but even in a hospital, her orders had had to be followed.
Despite this she also had a core of compassion and kindness towards others. She honestly cared about their suffering and well-being, both the physical and the emotional, and always took that into account with her orders.
As a salesman, that had been the easiest part of his pitch when he had first met her. Her father had sent him to her and, at that point, he had no idea she was a doctor and so—since he had been building the company office to begin with—had also gone to meet her with the intent on not only selling her the solar system for her roof but also to see if he could add her to his team.
Selling the panels had been easy… she had already made up her mind that she wanted them before meeting him. However, when he discovered she was a medical doctor, he gave up trying to hire her. She already made more money as a surgeon than he did as a sales manager.
Sheridan had then invited him out to their farm and shown him what she and her husband had in mind which was an entire field of…
“Holy…!” he exclaimed, truncating what he had almost finished with when he saw the younger child sitting on Sheridan’s desk while she examined him.
Sheridan looked up from the child’s throat and over at Derek in puzzlement. “What is it?”
“We’ve been looking for power and a way to bring back a bit of civilization and it’s sitting right under our damn noses!” he answered animatedly. “The solar field!”
“What about what now?” asked Emilie.
The realization was dawning on Sheridan as her face lit up. “By the Gods above, Derek…” she breathed. “I forgot they were even there.”
“So did I!” he exclaimed. “We’ve been too busy surviving to even think about it. The only reason I did was because I’ve finally had time to stop and think. We could have real power.”
“Do we have any way of harnessing it?” asked Emilie.
Sheridan grinned as she lifted the child off her desk. She nodded to child’s father and he walked out with his child while shaking his head in amusement. As soon they were out of sight, Sheridan said, grinning. “You bet we do.”
“Garrett,” answered Derek. “We have Garrett Wither.”
* * * * *
It was the sound of someone sitting down in the chair beside his bed that woke Derek from his light doze. Opening his eyes, Derek was relieved to see that the triumvirate he was now well used to seeing were ready to hear what he had in mind.
He took a moment to compose his thoughts while wiping the sleep from his eyes.
“Sorry to wake you,” said Shiloh. “Sheridan said you wanted to see us as soon as possible. I took that literally.”
“She’s right,” he answered, his voice still raspy from sleep and his illness.
Thankfully, he had been moved to the far more private part of Sheridan’s clin
ic. Instead of being close to her desk and under her direct eye, he now was able to sleep with a room divider between him and the rest of the clinic. Looking around, he noticed his wife was, again, missing. Considering she was now often involved around the farm and the growing town that was popping up around Sheridan’s house, he was not all that surprised.
He looked back up at Shiloh, then pointed to the pad of paper and a pencil that was just out of his reach and Marissa handed it over to him.
“I forgot about something,” he admitted sheepishly. “And I think we all did—given the circumstances and what else has been at the centre of our attention.” Shiloh was quiet and waited for her godfather to finish his thought. “The solar field.”
Jeremy leaned back in his chair as the realization dawned on him and Sheridan laughed softly as she remembered.
“The field…” finished Sheridan, waiting for Shiloh to react.
“We have a field of solar panels in an area of the farm where nothing would grow normally and where the horses can’t get good pasture anyway,” answered Shiloh, still crinkling her brow while waiting for her cousin and godfather to explain. “The soil is rocky and destroyed from when it was a golf course way back in the day. Sheridan allowed the area to be used as a cooperative power generation venture—”
“And the company I worked for before all this happened supplied, and installed, the panels for it,” finished Derek. “The worst part is that if they haven’t been damaged they are still generating power… it’s just not going anywhere.”
“Wasted potential,” said Shiloh. “Holy mother of God, you mean we could have real electricity?”
“If there’s a way to re-route it and use it properly, then yes; our little community could have real power and some semblance of modern civilization,” answered Derek. “We’d need a power line engineer on top of an electrical engineer and I only know of one.”
After Oil Page 24
