Zombie Night in Canada (Book 1): First Period

by Friesen, Jamie

  Another way they wasted time was setting off their car alarms from the rooftop and watching a bunch of zombies shamble to the car, as if there was someone trying to sneak in or out. Of course, like most Edmontonians, almost everyone had car starters and more or less full tanks of gas, so they could start the cars, let them run for a couple of minutes until they automatically shut off, and then they could tease those zombie bastards pretty much all day long. Xander thought Steve was crazy to waste gas he might need for a getaway, but Steve’s response was, get away to where? As far as everyone knew, the world was finished. Civilization had been flushed down the toilet and there wasn’t anyone else left alive. Maybe there were some military types in a bunker somewhere or survivalists out the bush, but 99.9% of North America was as dead as a doornail.

  Another amusing pastime, though not as popular, was to fire hockey pucks at them, aiming for their heads. If they got hit hard enough, they went down and stayed down. If nothing else, pelting them felt good. Costco had had a bin full of hundreds of pucks and it seemed like as good a use for them as any other.

  Chapter 25

  October 9th

  After lying on his back and basically doing nothing for three days, Xander started going stir crazy, so he got up and tried walking around. Evelyn freaked out of course, telling him to relax and take it easy, but Xander could only sit on his ass for so long before he went postal.

  It appeared to Xander that Jessica’s diagnosis was incorrect. Less than a week after suffering his injury, the bruises were almost gone, his ribs were healing nicely and the pain was mostly gone, although his muscles were still really tight. Xander had suffered lots of injuries in his hockey career, and he was used to pushing himself hard in physio and rehab, so as soon as he could, he began stretching and lifting small things, just to get his muscles working again. He was careful not to push too hard and do too much, but some mornings he still woke up stiff and sore. The day after he did his first few push-ups had been very painful, but he could now do a dozen without feeling too much in the way of pain or stiffness.

  He had tried to climb the ladder to the roof two days before and he had made it only a third of the way up before he got dizzy and his arms ached. Yesterday he had made it almost all the way up, and then he was helped the rest of the way by Todd, who was up there on watch. He rested up there and after a few hours, climbed back down with help.

  Today, he was determined to get to the top of the roof by himself. He got his rifle and ammunition and slung it over his shoulder. Then he walked couple laps around the building, stretched a bit at the bottom of the ladder. He double-checked his backpack to make sure he had everything, a walkie-talkie with fresh batteries, a set of backup batteries, spare magazines for his rifle, and a couple Powerbars in case he got hungry.

  “I’ll go up first. You loop the rope under your arms and if you need help, I’ll pull you up,” Jack said, heading upwards.

  After Jack got to the top, he lowered the rope down and Xander looped it under his arms. He took a couple of deep breaths and began up the ladder. He climbed the first ten feet with ease, then as his heart started to pound in his chest, he paused for a moment.

  “You okay, Xander?” Jack shouted down.

  “Yep, just taking a breather,” Xander replied. He paused another second, then headed up again.

  Seconds later he was at the top. Jack reached under Xander’s arms and helped him out.

  “Thought you might want a little help at the end,” Jack said.

  “Thanks,” Xander replied. He put down his backpack and took a few steps, then faltered.

  Jack was right there helping Xander. “Maybe you should wait another day or two, Xander.”

  “No, no, I’m okay. If there was something else to do, I would, really. But if I have to watch Thomas the Tank Engine one more time, I’ll go on a shooting spree,” Xander said with a devilish grin.

  “You really are clueless, man. Thomas is one of the few good kids’ shows around. At least it’s about something interesting, like trains. Be thankful they didn’t watch Strawberry Shortcake or Toopy & Binoo,” Jack said, laughing.

  Jack continued, “Trust me, there are lots of far more annoying kids shows for them to watch…you sure you’re gonna be okay?”

  “Yeah, you can head back down, Jack,” Xander replied.

  “See ya. If you need anything, just let me know,” Jack said, jiggling the walkie-talkie.

  Xander began walking around the roof, occasionally looking down at the infected gathered below.

  ---------

  Dan was bored out of his skull. He had spent days sitting on his ass, playing cards, shooting the shit with his fellow officers and working out and training as best he could. Requests to go back into the city were rebuffed or downright ignored. Those requests weren’t based on bloodthirstiness or a need for revenge, but because Dan was a man of action and sitting on his hands like this made him feel useless. He had even met with the Mayor and begged for his assistance in letting him get back into action. The mayor, unfortunately, agreed with General Raines. How much of that was agreement and how much was ass kissing for the military saving his ass at City Hall, Dan didn’t know. Still, even all of his badgering and complaining, the best the military would allow was to let Dan off the base with his own equipment, but without any support or extra supplies, just as MacLaren had told him days ago. And if he did leave, he’d have to spend another week in quarantine after his return to the base.

  So he sat and fumed over the military’s intransigence.

  MacLaren didn’t seem to have any problems sitting on his ass, and to Dan, it appeared that MacLaren was probably suffering from PTSD, likely from the carnage he had witnessed over the past few weeks. Like his former partner, MacLaren had no military experience and had had no experience with hardcore violence while working as a cop, never mind death. Odds were, if MacLaren had seen death as a police officer, it was likely at the scene of a car accident. Like most police officers, MacLaren had never drawn his firearm on duty prior to the outbreak. Indeed, as Dan looked around, many of his colleagues looked to be suffering from some sort of depression or anxiety.

  Having spent significant time in Afghanistan in combat, Dan had seen his share of PTSD, and prior to leaving for combat he had received special training in its symptoms and effects, as well as counseling after his return to deal with the possibility of it. Of course, since the pandemic started, there had been no time for anything of the sort.

  Finally, Dan swallowed his pride and contacted the military liaison in the Mayor’s office the day before. The liaison, Major Gilbert, was enthusiastic and set the wheels in motion for Dan to join a patrol into the city’s west end.

  Now, Dan sat waiting in his police cruiser, waiting to meet the troops he was going out to support. The night before, he had stripped and cleaned his weapons, loaded all his spare magazines and readied himself as best he could.

  A G-Wagon pulled up to the 1 Field Ambulance building and stopped. Major Gilbert and another soldier got out and walked over to him.

  “Officer Simpson,” Major Gilbert said.

  Simpson nodded.

  “This is Sergeant Cooper, the company XO for the team you’re heading out with today,” Major Gilbert said, pointing to the NCO beside him.

  “Glad to have you aboard, Simpson,” Sergeant Cooper said with a smile.

  “Just doing my part,” Simpson replied.

  “Take care, Officer, if you need anything, let me know,” Major Gilbert said, heading towards the building.

  “Am I taking my vehicle?” Dan asked, gesturing to his Police Interceptor.

  “We’d prefer you to take one of ours, just in case we need to go off-road to get around an obstacle,” Sergeant Cooper said. “If you want, you can bring it over to the barracks and we’ll get you something else.”

  “Okay,” Dan said. He hopped in his car and followed the G-Wagon to the First Battalion, PPCLI, barracks.

  “Do you want to change into CADPA
T?” Sergeant Cooper asked.

  “No, I don’t think camo will make a difference in this mission,” Dan said.

  “You sure? The Major told me you’re a sergeant in the LERs. It might help you out…”

  “Is there that much resentment to cops here?” Dan asked.

  “No, but you know how young guys are. If they don’t respect…er, think you deserve to lead, they don’t listen very well.”

  Dan sighed. “Okay…I got a set in the trunk.”

  “Gotcha, what do you want to ride in? RG-31? G-Wagon? LAV?”

  “I think a G-Wagon should suffice,” Dan replied.

  “Okay, come with me and you can get changed.”

  Dan grabbed his CADPAT from the trunk and followed Cooper into the barracks. He changed and by the time he came out, Cooper had rounded up the crew for his G-Wagon.

  “Guys, this is Sergeant Simpson, he’ll be helping us today on our mission to secure extra food supplies,” Sergeant Cooper said.

  “This is Private Barker, your driver, and Private Hall, your gunner,” Sergeant Cooper said, pointing to the two men. “Simpson here is in the Loyal Eddies, and expects your best.”

  “Yes, Sergeant,” they both replied.

  Dan shook their hands and said, “Let’s mount up; they ain’t paying us by the hour!”

  The two men scrambled into the waiting G-Wagon. Seconds later, diesel engines snorted and four LAVs appeared from behind the barracks building and headed their way.

  “I’m riding with Lieutenant Miller in Charlie Two-One. Your call sign is Charlie Two-Five. Keep your eyes and ears open and if large numbers of infected appear, let us deal with them,” Sergeant Cooper said.

  “Are we going to have a briefing at all?” Dan asked.

  “We already had one – all we need you to do is to recommend alternative routes if we come up against obstacles we can’t go around or enemies we can’t deal with.”

  Shaking his head, Dan replied, “Okay, where we headed?”

  “Into the west end, there are a couple food distribution warehouses we want to check out. Aerial views show them relatively intact, but we need to know if they’re still full of food, or if they’ve been picked clean.”

  Dan got into the G-Wagon. “Let’s roll out,” he said to Private Barker.

  The G-Wagon moved ahead of the LAVs and headed to the gate. It took a few minutes for the wall defenders to clear a gap, then the convoy was roaring down the highway. It turned onto the Anthony Henday, Edmonton’s ring road, and headed west.

  Private Barker gestured to the radio and asked, “Do you mind?”

  “Not at all,” Dan replied.

  Barker turned on the radio and AC/DC’s “Highway to Hell” exploded from the speakers.

  Private Hall shouted, “Now that’s what I’m talking about!”

  Dan smiled, agreeing that the song was definitely appropriate.

  “What route are we taking?” Dan asked Private Barker.

  “The plan is to go down the Henday, turn on 170th and head south, then down to the Yellowhead to 156th and back north, hitting the second warehouse on the way back.”

  “Are we going off-road to get to 170th, it doesn’t have an overpass on it,” Dan said.

  “Are you sure?” Private Barker replied.

  “I drove the Henday hundreds of times, there’s no overpass there, just a flyover.”

  “What the hell is a flyover?”

  “It’s an overpass without any on/off ramps,” Dan said reasonably.

  “Dumb ass mission planners,” Barker muttered. “You better let Sergeant Cooper know, he thinks there’s a regular overpass there.”

  Dan let Sergeant Cooper know the bad news. “Guess we’ll have to off-road it then. I’ll send an LAV to take point so it can knock down the fence.”

  An E-LAV surged ahead of the G-Wagon and when the convoy reached 170th, it turned into the ditch and roared up the embankment. Its bulldozer blade tore through the flimsy fence with ease and then took up a covering position. The rest of the convoy made its way through the gap and the little G-Wagon once again surged to the fore and led the way. The road was a relatively clear of vehicles and as it passed 137th Avenue, Dan suddenly remembered the massive firefight he and Ed and MacLaren had had nearby a couple weeks ago.

  “Charlie Two-One, be ready for action. We had a major battle with hundreds of infected near this location a couple of weeks ago, over,” Dan said into the radio.

  “Roger, Charlie Two-Five, out,” came the reply.

  The convoy surged south, passing a huge yard full of shipping containers. A tattered sign read, ‘Alive inside – please help!’. A handful of infected were near the fence, trying to get inside.

  “Can we stop and check it out?” Dan asked.

  “Nope, we keep moving,” Private Barker said.

  Dan scooped up the mike. “Charlie Two-One, request permission to investigate possible survivors inside that container lot, over.”

  “Negative, keep moving, over,” Lieutenant Miller replied.

  “Charlie Two-One, there are infected near the fence. Based on past experience, that almost certainly means there are survivors inside,” Dan protested.

  “Negative, the mission comes first, out,” came the terse reply.

  “Fuck, we should do something,” Dan said to himself.

  “Hey, I’m all for it, but you heard the man. We gotta follow the mission,” Private Barker said.

  Dan shook his head as they passed the yard and continued south. The E-LAV bringing up the rear of the convoy fired a burst of machine gun fire into the group of infected, mowing most of them down.

  “The first warehouse should be on the right, up ahead,” Private Barker said.

  A sign reading ‘The Grocery People’ appeared and the G-Wagon turned into the parking lot. From the parking lot, the building seemed intact and there were no signs of infected. A squad of troops disembarked from one of the APCs and searched the perimeter of the building and reported none of the entrances breached.

  The troops boarded their APC and the convoy headed out.

  “Looks like we get to eat tonight,” Private Barker said as the G-Wagon pulled back on 170th Street.

  “What do you mean?” Dan asked.

  “The base is really short of food. We’ve got close to five thousand troops inside it, plus their families, contractors, refugees from the city, members from the city emergency services, civilians, you name it, inside. If I had to guess, we’ve got close to fifteen thousand inside. That’s why LT didn’t want to stop to help those people out back there; he’s probably got orders not to bring any extra people back. We’ve already got more than enough mouths to feed and not nearly enough food to do it.”

  “I bet the LT would have stopped otherwise,” Private Hall chimed in. “For an officer, he’s a pretty good guy.”

  Private Barker nodded and kept driving.

  Soon, the convoy was on the Yellowhead.

  “Stay right, we need to get on this overpass coming up. When we get to the top, I want you to stop for a minute,” Dan said. “Maybe accelerate a bit and get a bit of a lead.”

  “Okay, but why,” Private Barker asked.

  “You’ll see.”

  The G-Wagon raced ahead and got to the top of the overpass.

  “Is it clear?” Dan asked Private Hall.

  “Yep.”

  Dan got out of the G-Wagon and pulled out his binoculars. He scanned the area, then zeroed in on a pair of buildings. One looked ravaged by war, burnt and damaged, but the other appeared untouched.

  He got back in the G-Wagon and heard the radio crackle. “Why have you stopped? Is there an obstacle up there, over?”

  Dan picked up the mike and said, “Nope, but I just found at least one more place to get food, over. The Costco looks like it was hit, but the Grocery People warehouse looks untouched.”

  “Good job, Charlie Two-Five, out.”

  The second food distribution warehouse, the Sobey’s regional d
istribution centre, had been ransacked, but the mission was an overall success. When they got back on base, Sergeant Cooper and Lieutenant Miller came over to personally thank Dan.

  “Without your quick thinking, we might never have known about those other warehouses. Thanks a lot,” Sergeant Cooper said.

  “My pleasure, but if you really want to make the best of us ‘scouts’ you might want to include us in your mission planning,” Dan replied.

  “Duly noted,” the Lieutenant said.

  Chapter 26

  October 11th

  Todd was on guard duty, shivering in the cool fall morning despite his thick winter parka. Since his screw-up with the forklifts, he had tried to atone as best he could, taking as many guard shifts as they would give him and trying to be as useful as possible. He made extra care to avoid Steve as much as possible, not out of fear of what Steve might do, but because of his own shame.

  Out of nowhere, a pair of police cars appeared, their lights flashing and sirens wailing. They raced into the parking lot, plowing through lone infected and came to a screeching stop about twenty feet apart. Then two other cars did the same, creating a crude barricade of sorts. The quartet of cars was located roughly halfway between the PetSmart and the CIBC bank in the parking lot, about twenty metres from the front entrance of Costco.