“I don’t doubt it,” he answered, yawning before drifting into the foggy between of sleep and not quite asleep.
Marissa pulled the blankets back up over his shoulders, and patted his arm. “I swear if you ever do this to me again, I’ll tie you to the bed posts by your damn ties,” she threatened, but smiled knowing he could not hear her anyway. She leaned close. “Your most expensive ones, too.”
“Promise?” came his whispered reply.
Marissa pinched her nose and groaned.
* * * * *
It had taken weeks but the waters of the river had finally returned to their normal level and the water no longer frothed in angry eddies as it rushed down and through its course.
The trees finally had their full coverage of leaves and the underbrush was at its thickest. It was hardly quiet—the whole forest was awake now. Birds and squirrels wrestled over seeds and territory and the wind rustled the leaves.
A lonely cabin sat down river from the dam but was well above the flood point of the river.
Within, Garrett Wither wrapped a strip of cloth around his arm. That took weeks, but the cut looks mostly healed, he sighed. Not the most professional job on the face of the planet but it will have to do.
He walked to the door and pulled it open, barely dodging water from the roof as he did.
In the distance he could just barely see the dam.
From this far, the large structure holding back millions of gallons of water did not looking nearly as imposing. No one really knew it was there—just a few did or even what it meant.
Garrett was one of those few.
Not that it mattered anymore.
It’s obvious no one is coming. Dane has what he wants, and I’m all alone out here…
Once his arm healed and he scrounged up a few more supplies he would leave, and attempt to make it down to where he suspected his daughter and mother was. If not, he was sure there was a small community of people in between that could use his skills.
All he had to do was wait.
* * * * *
The days continued to roll by until Derek woke up again. Marissa hovered over him as he dressed, handing him pieces of his own clothing until he glared at her and sighed in exasperation.
“Are you sure you feel up to moving around this much?” asked Marissa as she followed him out of the clinic.
“I’m fine,” answered Derek, staring at Emilie who walked in. “And that goes double for you, before you ask.”
“You’re welcome,” answered Emilie, grinning. “How’s your head?”
“Clear, for once,” answered Derek. “Which is why I’d like to get out of here.”
Derek let his wife grasp his hand as they walked out of the clinic. And soon after, he was met with thunderous applause. He released Marissa’s hand and held up his hands and motioned for them to stop making such a fuss.
“Are you kidding? After what you did and managed to survive?” asked Zachary as he tapped him on the shoulder. “And you tell us to play it cautious.”
Derek shrugged, “It was all… well… I didn’t think about anything other than what it would mean if we failed at the mission we gave ourselves. The raiders would have overrun Lively and I heard the soldiers calling the fact that they were out of ammo. I had to do it when I did… I just barely managed to get myself out from under the bridge when I did.”
“You are definitely a serious bad ass…” Zachary trailed off. “So, what do we do now? Are we still heading to Garson to find Garrett?”
Derek looked across what was left of the bridge.
“Where are you going?” asked Zachary, surprised.
Derek turned back to them, locking his hands in Marissa’s. “I don’t know about you, but I’m heading home. We have all we need right here.”
About the Author
Kristan Cannon was born in Kirkland Lake, Ontario and educated in North Bay and Toronto. She is a staunch supporter of literacy, reading, and young writer's programs. She also holds a current membership with The Indie Writer's Network and is a member of the NaNoWriMo Ambassador's program.
When not researching or writing, Kristan exists for sailing her classic wooden sailboat with her cat, friends, and family... or for video games and books when snow and ice have the boat locked in its slip and she can't get away.
More about Kristan on her website:
www.kristancannon.com
Acknowledgements
My decision to go independent at first instead of the traditional route means the team of artists, proofreaders and support was a little different. Not only did I have to balance writing this book but I also had to step into the shoes of a publisher and editor.
Despite being finally accepted by KCEditions I could not do it without help and I owe a massive thank you to the following for providing it:
My publicist Allan, and my regular employer Carmelo for letting me ‘share the office’ after hours and his office printer for the reprint of the final manuscript. I can easily tell you without either of these two this book would not be sitting in your hands at all.
Wilma for stepping in as the main editor when the computer, and the USB, decided eating over 75% of the manuscript only weeks before Anime North was a fantastic idea and forcing me to rewrite the book from the gathered scraps of previous drafts.
The original role playing group that portrayed a few of the characters in here.
Everyone who cheered me on.
The artist, Jeanette, for designing the fantastic cover and Vanessa for the amazing day at Lawrence Market and the amazing portrait photos.
And, of course, Steve… for not being completely horrified at the thought the character I based off of him decided he wanted to be the main character.
Preview of
The Last Iron Horse
The next book in
Kristan Cannon's
Kingdom of Walden Series
Available Now!
Shiloh found her godmother pacing in the white room—a room in the northern corner of the Manor which sat closest to the escarpment. Marissa never paced and this was enough to make Shiloh pause. In one corner sat her grandmother’s paint easel, although Lorraine no longer had time to paint with keeping the kitchen organized.
“Reese?” Shiloh asked.
Marissa jumped a bit to the side, her hand on her chest. “Jesus, Shiloh, don’t do that.”
“Sorry.”
The older of the two waved Sheridan into the room as she walked over to one of the long couches. “Shiloh, how has Sheridan been holding up?” asked Marissa. Before Shiloh could answer Marissa continued, “For that matter, how are you holding up? Lorraine? The others?”
Shiloh blinked. “I suppose we’re all doing the best we can… why?”
“I’m concerned some of us taken on a heavier work load than others—and it’s not because someone else is shirking,” Marissa sighed again as she crossed her arms and looked over at Shiloh. “The opposite, actually. It’s because someone isn't delegating.”
“Sheridan,” surmised Shiloh, and was hardly surprised when Marissa nodded. “You can’t tell me you weren’t expecting her to do it, though. You do remember this is the woman who was supposed to hire a personal assistant over five years ago and never quite did. I’m amazed she took Suni on, but I suppose Pavi didn’t give her much choice in the matter.”
“I was thinking, like Suni has for things medical, of taking on things administrative,” said Marissa. “I have no idea what anyone will call what I do—Sheridan is the history nut and since we seem to be taking a large step back in time into a… ah… not sure what to call this and it’s been years since I graded anything or had to look something like this up…”
“I’m sure in the library upstairs they’ve probably got something on the subject,” suggested Shiloh. “Since you want to take up ‘things administrative’ I think you’ve got the first call on what you get to call yourself.”
Marissa lifted her brows and leaned back in the couch.
“Valid point.”
* * * * *
The space behind the fireplace was a small room in a sea of larger ones. It always had been an awkward space with only a few bookshelves and a small desk. The advantage was that despite its odd layout—or its use as an odd shaped hallway instead—it was still private.
It was perfect as a small office.
The shelves held extra storage space for filing and organization. The small desk was more than big enough for someone to keep track of expenses and other things.
A few hours later Jeremy poked his head into the room as he watched Marissa shift things around. “What are you doing?” he asked.
“Sheridan needs someone as her second,” answered Marissa. “Not medical, but administrative. Someone who can run things if she cannot.”
“You?” he asked.
“Why not?” she asked in return as she looked up at him. “Come on, give me a hand. Maybe we both can whip this into shape.”
Jeremy looked almost like he was going to say something but then changed his mind as he came the rest of the way into the room. Marissa had borrowed or outright taken certain things from other rooms. But the items, unused and ignored, were hardly missed by their previous owners. With a sigh, he helped her tweak her new office into the space she was looking for.
“There,” she said. “That should just about do it.”
“Why did we just spend a day making another office?” he asked, puzzled.
“I already told you,” she answered. “Sheridan has two big hats to wear but she’s only one person. So, each role has someone to back her up. In the clinic I think she has Suni, and Emilie if she comes back. But in running the farm, so to speak, she has no one to keep track of anything. We may as well be it.”
Marissa linked her arm with Jeremy’s as his eyebrows rose. “We?”
“You doing anything else?”
“Well, no. Marissa, you’re a genius.”
“I try,” she chuckled.
* * * * *
The small group of people in the clearing at the bottom of the hill grew as more came from the bush. I really hope they’re just more displaced citizens, Russell thought as he watched them meet up in the middle. Just wanting shelter like us. His thought was dispelled when the first shots peppered the building from the side.
“They flanked us,” pointed out Willow in chagrin. “Damn, I should have expected it.”
“No one’s perfect,” answered Adrienne.
“Yeah, unfortunately missing that particular detail may cost us our lives,” retorted Willow. “I never excused missing vital details before from others and I sure as hell should not be doing it myself.”
Adrienne sighed but did not argue as Willow had a valid point. Unfortunately, before they had entire teams of personnel to work with and rely on. Now it all rested on far too few.
“Willow, do you recognize those two?” asked Adrienne, pointing to the intersection and just past the lights.
Willow checked it with a pair of binoculars. “Son of a…” she growled. She then leaned back against wall and knelt down. “Yeah—was hoping not to see them.”
“People we know?” asked Emilie.
“Marcus, its Jeff and Sina,” called out Willow.
Marcus’s only response was a loud, and empathic, “Shit.”
“My thoughts exactly,” agreed Willow.
“Who are Jeff and Sina?” asked Russell.
Adrienne sighed, “Two people we used to work with. I’m guessing they took off on their own when everything went sideways?” she asked Willow. Willow gave her nod. Upon receiving Willow’s nod, Adrienne continued, “While we never could prove anything and no one ever pressed anything, we all knew they were trouble. But, since not even IA could prove it or do anything, we were stuck with them. We were all hoping they would quit, or something…”
“… Or something?” clarified Emilie. “That a different way of saying you were hoping they would do something monumentally stupid and get themselves killed?”
“Well, not that,” answered Willow. “Nothing like that—but we were hoping they would slip up and get themselves nailed by IA, and then terminated from their jobs. I wouldn’t wish that on anyone but they were dragging us all down.”
“But now they’re here to take the detachment and I’m guessing they aren’t going to have the same amount of mercy for us,” said David. “And I get what you’re saying. Excusing the cliché and all… it takes one bad apple to ruin the reputation… two or three is hell on wheels to recover from.”
“I think that was more than one cliché,” came Russell’s voice, as he rubbed a hand over his face. “So, what can we expect from these two?”
“They’re smart—Sina’s got a good head for tactics,” answered Willow. “It was unfortunate her head for tactics came with one hell of a temper and far too much ambition for her own good. Not saying there’s a problem with ambition, but Sina never tempered it with patience or empathy.”
“Like she forgot she was human, at times,” added Adrienne. “No matter how much you tried to draw her into a normal relationship she didn’t want nor welcome it. I don’t think she understood it.”
“And Jeff?” asked Emilie.
“Always a real wing nut,” answered Marcus, and he made a circling gesture with his finger by the side of his head. “Hid it but… not that well, if you catch my meaning.”
“How the hell did these two even get through training and human resources?” asked David. “I’d hate to point it out, but someone wasn’t paying attention to the psych report if what you’re saying about Jeff…”
“…He wasn’t always like that,” answered Willow. “He was transferred here from down South. From what his old colleagues said—he just needed someplace quieter to hold out for a year before he retired. So, I always gave him the less intensive assignments—traffic patrol in quiet areas, desk work… that kind of thing. I was in the middle of filling out his paperwork for retirement when everything fell apart around us. And he just snapped—disappeared—and I thought maybe he’d died over the winter… but I guess he met up with Sina somewhere.”
This Sina, however, sounded like someone who would take advantage of Jeff—and, if Willow and Marcus were correct, she had, thought Russell.
“I wonder…” mused Emilie. “Would it mean we could split them up and cause a bit of a rift in leadership?”
David grinned, remembering another—and similar—circumstance from the winter. Shiloh and Derek had managed to split leadership in another situation.
“If we could, it would, potentially, split their numbers. Granted, we’d end up in a three-way fight, but if it works that would definitely split their focus and ruin Sina’s day,” admitted Willow. “I’m all up for that if we can do it.”
“Willow!” came a shouted voice. “I know you’ve seen us! We outnumber you… there’s two of you and quite a few more of us. Why don’t you just give it up?”
Willow sighed. “I could have done with a little more time to come up with a better defence than this.”
“We still have the advantage, Sina,” called down Marcus. “Locked up detachment, supplies enough to outlast you, and enough to repel you if you insist on trying to get in. Go crawl back under the rock you came out from under!”
“This is starting to remind me of something else,” mused David as he looked over at Emilie and she nodded.
“Nice to know you’ve encountered similar,” said Russell wryly. “Any ideas on how to repel this?”
“This is a little different. Then we had the advantage of blocking them off, and the numbers, to fight them off if they somehow made it through the gate,” mentioned Emilie. “Not the other way around… and we’re kind of surrounded here.”
“Okay, not exactly the same,” conceded David, as he looked around. “But we do have the high ground and we also have cover and the supplies. More so than they do. We just need to outlast their siege… wait a second, we also have radios… any way we can call for b
ack up?”
Willow shook her head. “We’ve tried and all we’ve gotten for our efforts was bump kiss… and overhearing you and Dan…”
Silence fell like a pall and swept through their ranks. Russell looked down at the roof surface and pulled out the picture of Sheridan. “We don’t lose this place. No one will come for us. We have to become what the others need because we are the only ones who can. If we fall here, then the others will fall after us. We stand here, and now, and… even if there is no one but those raiders out there to know what we did, we still just sent a clear message. We won’t let what's left of our world—of civilization—go without a fight.”
A few of the bricks lining the roof exploded and caught everyone’s attention. They flattened themselves against the surface of the roof and underneath the edge of the ledge.
“I didn’t think she would give us long to discuss things,” mused Willow. “Would have given us too much time to plan how to counter her.” David sighed heavily and motioned for Abigail to move to the back corner, and for Emilie to join her. Marcus and Willow moved to another while him and Russell did the same.
Reacting instead of having a plan was no way to go into a fight if they had to defend their lives but unfortunately this was all they had. David sighed heavily and motioned for Emilie to move to the back corner. Marcus and Willow moved to another, while he and Russell each took up the other two.
“We’ll have to move around as they move around us, but we leave one of us on each corner as spotter,” ordered Russell. “Emilie, you’re our paramedic so don’t take this wrong when I say to keep your head down and out of the fighting. Run us supplies and keep out of sight.”
After Oil Page 34
