After Oil

Home > Other > After Oil > Page 33
After Oil Page 33

by Kristan Cannon


  The destruction was widespread and easily seen. Buildings and complexes that had existed since the early fifties were conspicuously missing—or only half standing. One apartment building in the distance looked as if half of it had collapsed. Smoke still rose from house fires and other fires that had yet to go out. Some places looked like they had been destroyed on purpose by some sort of rocket weaponry.

  It looks like a war zone in the downtown, perhaps even all the way out to New Sudbury, realized Derek as his heart sank. I guess there’s little chance of even finding a house still there, even if we make it all the way out to Garson…

  “You’re looking at Sudbury, aren’t you?” asked Kevin, yelling over the wind.

  “Yeah,” answered Derek. After he stopped using the binoculars, he looked up at Kevin. “I see what you mean. There’s nothing left.”

  “Considering the radio silence and the lack of response even by satellite radio, there’s no one listening in any of the HQ’s,” said Kevin. “We’re on our own out here.”

  Derek looked through the binoculars and down the road that connected Lively and Copper Cliff. There was a large gathering of people just inside the industrial complex bordering the road.

  It was far larger than he expected, perhaps a few hundred strong. “We’ve got a problem,” he yelled up to Kevin, pointing to where he was looking.

  Kevin looked where he pointed and swore vehemently. “Well, that’s not good.”

  A few minutes later they climbed back down to the ground where the police from Lively and Kevin’s unit waited Derek looked at the scant seven police officers—including Zachary—and knew that at least two were part of the auxiliary corps and not regular and the other OPP was also an auxiliary. Of those, two were OPP and one detective from the Royal Canadian Mount Police. In fact, he also knew the Algonquin corps was part of the reservists and not regular. That meant that most of what they had—while well trained like regulars—were civilians and not actually regular, full-time forces.

  Some of the others were security guards and he figured he had at least four of those in their larger unit. Normal people comprised the rest—people that just wanted to defend their homes and families against those who once were neighbours and had now forgotten that fact.

  “We have our work cut out for us,” mused Derek.

  Kevin agreed, “We don’t have enough weapons to go around that are military or even police issue. The rest of what we’ve found has come from the various hunter supply shops and also what some of the people here had in their homes.”

  “Basically hunting weapons,” said Derek.

  Canada was not like the United States. There was no amendment that allowed the right to bear arms in defence of home and personal property or one’s family. The only recourse, if someone wanted to be involved in defence in such a capacity, was joining the Reserves for the Canadian Military or as an Auxiliary for the various branches of police services. Both methods required rigorous employment screening and background checks.

  Weapons as such were only supposed to be for hunting game and then only in certain areas. Again, the laws and regulations required to register were long and complicated. Most people simply decided that when they were going to camp it was likely to involve fishing.

  Although, a simple hunting rifle without a scope was deadly enough. But their prime purpose was to take down animals—not people wearing modern combat armour.

  “So, to sum up things… we literally have no idea what we’re up against or even what resources these raiders will have to fight us with,” mused Derek aloud, and Kevin nodded.

  Derek looked up the road and thought for a moment.

  The largest problem is access. The road from Copper Cliff was another a four lane highway set over the main four lane highway with a clover leaf interchange. This makes it easy to just stroll into Lively and back out again. The even larger issue is…

  Derek followed the path of the road suddenly realized where the raiders—including those plaguing Panache Lake and Whitefish—always came from and just how they were getting to the area. Oh… well, shit… this is going to be a rather large problem unless we do something about it.

  That very clover leaf gave them easy access down the four lane highway and to Whitefish by bypassing everything in their path. There was literally no one to stop them and then they easily could retreat back with their gains.

  The bridge was their jumping off point and Lively sat right on it.

  He looked at Kevin, “I have an idea.”

  * * * * *

  Hours later Derek packed up his horse and loaded the saddle bags with junk and clothing. There was a fairly good chance the horse was going to bolt, no matter how well trained, and if she bolted, he did not want any of their precious supplies going with her. Marissa watched him dress in the armour that Sheridan had given him, but he also added a layer of modern flak armour underneath.

  “I don’t want you to do this,” she pleaded. “Tell me you’re not going to do it.”

  “Someone has to and I’m not sending some kid out there to do it,” he reasoned and sighed. “And it has to look like a trader or someone else... someone that would have been in our group.”

  “Why you?” she asked.

  “Kevin and Emilie will be with me.”

  “Then why aren’t we all going?” she asked sharply.

  He sighed again even he had to admit he could see her point. Why was she not going with him when he had always maintained that they stick together—no matter what? He knew the main reason he did not want her with them was purely because he wanted her safe. Well, as safe as anything in the new world would be.

  There was a good chance he would not be coming back from his little surprise for the raiders.

  “Reese…” he began and then turned to face her.

  “I won’t let you do this,” she said.

  “Remember when I asked you if you would have a problem with me being a ranger for Sheridan’s farm—her growing nation—and that it would likely result in me leaving you behind? How dangerous it would be?” he asked.

  “What does that have to do with this?” she asked.

  “Everything,” he answered. “I could have ridden out from that farm while you stayed behind and come here and still did all this. I’m asking you to let me do what you said you would let me do now.”

  Marissa nodded, her lips compressed into a thin line. “Fine—but don’t do anything stupid out there. You come back to me.”

  “Wouldn’t dream of doing otherwise,” he admitted, pulling her into a hug. “I promise you—I’ll come back, safe and sound, to you and we can go home.”

  CHAPTER THIRTY-NINE

  Derek waited off to the side of bridge, and motioned for the others to take the other side. He only hoped they could keep the raiders’ attention on top of the bridge long enough while Kevin’s people were placing charges using lengths of Primacord wrapped around the supports.

  Emilie twitched regularly, as if looking for trouble but not quite sure where it would come from.

  It was very unsettling to know that almost right under their feet were explosives that could go off at any second.

  “Here they come,” said Derek, aiming his rifle.

  Emilie motioned to him, “On your one o’clock.”

  Derek flicked his gaze over to where Emilie pointed to him and saw the brief little motion. “I see them.”

  He took a breath, finger loosely on the trigger of his shotgun. “Kev?” asked Derek into the ear piece lent to him.

  “A few more minutes,” came the answer. “My people are falling back now.”

  “We may not have a few more minutes,” answered Derek.

  “Incoming!” yelled one of the soldiers up on the road with them as the first of the raiders jumped out from behind the burned out husk of a car.

  The first retort of the shotgun in the raider’s hand was like a signal to the others. Knowing there was no point in hiding, they sprang their ambush and swarmed
the bridge. Derek managed to shoot one that had almost managed to make it across, and then the raider yelled, “Back to the bridge!”

  They retreated while Derek pressed his advantage, until he heard other guns finally join them.

  “Fire at will!” yelled Kevin and semi-automatic weapons fire filled the air.

  The first wave of the raiders—funnelled onto the bridge as they had been—were cut down by the focused fire of Kevin’s soldiers within minutes.

  Derek approached Kevin and yelled, “Are your people ready?”

  There was no answer. When he touched Kevin’s shoulder, he crumpled. With a wash of horror, Derek realized that the commander of the reserves was dead.

  The control for the explosives was on Kevin. Derek searched the immediate area and saw the remote down the side of the hill. He slid down and grabbed it, looking under the structure of the bridge.

  Gun shots peppered the ground. He ducked and hid under the bridge.

  There was only one way he could end this and he was unfortunately right below what had to be blown.

  He looked at the device.

  He had promised his wife he would go back alive. He could hear the sound of the battle above him and the heavier thuds of the grenades.

  The raiders were starting to spill out beside the bridge and down the ravine to the other part of the highway. Concrete dust rained down on Derek as the onslaught continued.

  Gunfire was going in two directions and there was no way he could go back the way he came. I’m trapped here, he realized. Heart in his mouth, he closed his eyes. And I just broke my promise…

  The thuds of heavier weapons seemed further away, but he knew it was still just above his head as dust and cement bits rained down on him. Derek picked his way to the other side and away from the invading marauders and to where the cement did not fall as heavily.

  It was beginning to get quiet and somebody shouted, “Ammo out!”

  Derek jumped the rest of his way down to the cement to the shallow creek below, ignoring the sudden flash of pain through his knee and leg.

  He looked up, and then down at the remote in his hand. Derek flipped the guard protecting the switch open, and then the switch.

  The bridge above him erupted in flames.

  Screams met his ears. Bits of metal and rock rained down as a large piece of concrete landed near his head.

  The pain caught up with him and his vision darkened. The cold water in the creek seeped into his clothing.

  …I’m so, so sorry, Reese… he thought as he gave up on his tenuous grip on consciousness.

  * * * * *

  Marissa watched in horror as the column of smoke rose suddenly to her immediate east from where Derek had last reported from. While the raiders had not made it past the bridge in great numbers every last armed person had to protect the road.

  She had never been one to run away from anything and if Derek had brought her with him then she, too, was going to defend Lively.

  Even if the role involved little else but picking off anyone who managed to make it past the army.

  Those who did had also turned at the thrumming feel through the ground and then the sonic shock wave that rippled the air. It never sounded like thunder. Movies had always made explosions sound like rumbling thunder… but this did not sound like that.

  The sound had been like a whine, a zipping whistle and then the smoke and debris just lifted into the air.

  The smoke dissipated far quicker than Hollywood showed it. One moment there had been a column as high as she could see and then it had all fallen back down again. All that remained was a thin thread—like that of a campfire in the distance.

  All this in mere seconds.

  The few raiders who had made it through simply lost their will to fight and sat down on the road. It was as if they knew what that meant, and what it heralded.

  The police officers who had hung back simply fell on old habits and swooped in to take them off the road, dragging them down to where the grocery store was.

  Marissa stood in the middle of the road, and waited.

  Others arrived, and then one soldier brought back a covered body. “It’s Lt. O’Neill,” said Kevin’s second in command, shaking her head. “I’m sorry, ma’am… there’s no sign of your husband out there.”

  “You had to see something… someone did,” insisted Marissa, as Emilie came over to them.

  “The last we heard from Derek he had returned to Kevin’s position—and Kev had the detonator. When the bridge blew we assumed it had been Kevin who pushed the button… but…” Emilie shook her head. “No Derek and no detonator… and if he was under that bridge…”

  Marissa sank down to her knees. “Dammit, no, he promised me he’d come back. He told me to trust him—he said he’d come back.”

  Emilie hugged the older woman from behind as Marissa wept.

  CHAPTER FORTY

  Sometime after twilight turned to night, Derek opened his eyes. In the darkness, there was nothing but cold—so cold that he could barely get his body to react. He ran his hand down the side of his leg and his ribs and then started to laugh.

  I’m alive, he thought as he pushed a chunk of cement only centimetres from his head away from him. I didn’t think I’d survive this…

  He crawled his way, out of the water of the creek, and under the cement and stone. He stared in disbelief at the scene in front of him—there was nothing left of the bridge, but twisted metal and broken rubble and there was also no one in sight.

  “Ow…” he breathed as he sat down heavily on the rubble below the remains of the bridge. Not looking forward to rest of the walk up there.

  Derek staggered stiffly, and then climbed his way up through jagged chunks of concrete and twisted rebar to the Lively side of the bridge. The Primacord explosive had neatly cut the bridge from the road in a line and blasted the rest into chunks of concrete. The road was blocked with no way for anyone to cross the four lanes while the cars and semis were squashed beneath.

  Derek stumbled down the road toward Lively. It was not until he reached the first set of lights that he encountered the first clump of people. Derek almost tripped on a loose rock, but caught himself at the last second, leaning against the cement pole holding the traffic light in the middle of the split lane road.

  He could feel the stares, and as he stared as his own hand he saw why. He was coated with cement dust so thick that he appeared to be stone.

  I’m a moving statue, he giggled, but tamped down the impending hysterics.

  Losing it at this point would not help him.

  A woman approached him. Her lips moved, and Derek sucked in a breath as he realized he never heard a single word of what she said. She stepped up to him, and grasped his elbow, guiding him down the hill to where the clinic was.

  He walked those final steps in a bit of a daze, not even noticing anything around him—or the gathering crowd.

  Derek came out of this long enough when he collapsed to protesting knees. “Ow,” he said again, and then Marissa pushed her way through the other people and to his side, and he clung to her. “Never thought I’d see you again.”

  “I’m going to assume that was a hello,” she pointed out, as he let him wrap his arms around her ribs. “Because other than ‘ow’ I didn’t understand what you just said… Derek?”

  “He’s out,” said Emilie, as she checked Derek over. “I also seriously doubt he’s heard a word of what anyone has said. I think he’s deaf from the blast.”

  “Will he always be deaf?” asked Zachary.

  Emilie shook her head as they pulled Derek’s arms, still gripping Marissa while unconscious, from around his wife and lifted him to a waiting stretcher. “Could be only temporary, could be permanent,” answered Emilie. “I really wish that doctor from here had survived. We need to clean him up and get a better look.”

  Marissa followed them back to the clinic and into the examination room. She sat down beside them and took Derek’s hand in her own. He nev
er even flickered an eyelash despite all the activity around him. He’s exhausted, she realized. At least I hope that’s the only thing it is.

  “I’m afraid you need to move,” said Emilie. “Unless you plan on helping out.”

  “Of course I’m staying right here,” she answered, taking a bowl of water and a few clean cloths from the pile. “And if that means helping then I’ll do it.”

  * * * * *

  Derek woke up and found himself in a warm bed with an intravenous line running into his arm. From the look of the room it was not a house, but instead someplace distinctly medical. It was too clean, and institutional, for an office and the facilities looked too much like a hospital. Not where I remember being last… he thought. Wait… where was I last?

  “Derek, can you hear me?” asked Marissa.

  “Not so loud,” he murmured as her voice, as soft as it was right now, was enough to send little jackhammers into his temple.

  The shock wave of the explosives had still been enough to…

  …And then he remembered. Oh, that’s right. I blew up the Lively Bridge… and somehow survived it… which means I must be in the clinic.

  “Oh God, my head.”

  “Your head?” she asked, her voice rising in disbelief, and he rolled slightly onto his side as he groaned. “You’re lucky to even have a head. Everyone told me they last saw you at the command post with Kevin, and then suddenly you simply vanished down into the ravine… and they knew you had the control… They told me you were under the bridge when you pushed that button. Derek… I thought you were dead and you promised me!”

  Derek sighed heavily, “Trust me when I say that my promise was never very far from my mind.”

  Marissa leaned over and leaned her head on his shoulder, half on his bed but without disturbing his bandaging. Eventually he found himself nodding off and she looked up at him, watching him as he tried to fight it. “You need to sleep. Dr. Assad said you have a serious concussion.”

 

‹ Prev