by R. A. Rock
I marvelled at how quickly the trappings of civilization were falling away. Three days. Only three days and things were already sliding more towards anarchy and chaos and away from peace and order. It made me even more glad that Nessa was here with me. Of course, we weren’t together. But it comforted me anyhow.
We arrived at the clearing and Gideon arched an eyebrow, giving a low whistle.
“What’d you catch, Matt?” He raked his eyes over Nessa. “Whoever she is, she’s a keeper, don’t throw her back.”
Nessa gave him a — seriously? — sort of look.
“Shut up, Gideon,” I frowned at him. “This is Nessa. That car I heard was hers. She’s a friend of mine.”
I glared in the direction of the tall, muscular man who was a bit of a jerk sometimes.
“Nice to meet you, Nessa,” he said, and tipped his baseball cap to her sarcastically.
“Nice to meet you, too,” she said, walking over and holding out her hand to shake. He looked surprised and glanced down at her hand. She waited. He took it and again looked surprised at her firm grip. I hid a smile. Nessa was likely going to surprise him in more ways than one.
She approached James and Carlynne next. They had been eyeing her somewhat suspiciously until she turned towards them, then they plastered smiles on their faces as Nessa introduced herself.
Once the niceties were over, I got everyone’s attention.
“So, we’ve got sixty-five kilometres to cover and everyone should be on their guard. Are we agreed that we’ll stick to the road as much as we can and only go into the bush if there’s a threat?”
All their heads nodded and they looked solemn.
“Before we go, we should get rid of any excess that we have in our packs. Just bring three tents, no duplicate cooking items, that sort of thing.”
No one argued, so I continued on. I unrolled the copy of the map of the Thompson area — it was one of the ones I used when I was guiding — and held it open.
“This is the highway here,” I said, pointing and tracing it all the way to Sipwesk lake. “If we should get separated, we should either follow the highway or the river to Pisew Falls.”
I pronounced it pee shoe as most people in the area did — though there were some who made an effort at the proper pronunciation, saying it pee soo.
The proper way to pronounce it was pih-say-oh, which meant lynx in Cree. A lynx was a small wild cat, like a Bobcat. Supposedly the sound of the falls is similar to the sound of a lynx hissing. Or so the story goes.
“The river?” Oona said, looking confused. “Which river?”
“The Grassy River,” Gideon explained. “It flows out of Sipwesk to Paint lake. So if we follow it, we’ll end up at the lake.”
The woman nodded in understanding.
“If you go east of the highway, you have to hit it at some point because it sort of winds its way along somewhat parallel,” Nessa said, and Gideon gave her an appraising look. I smiled faintly again.
This was going to be fun.
Well, not really.
But Gideon was about to find out that women could be as competent as men in the woods and that would be interesting to watch.
“There’s also the snowmobile trail on the west side of the highway that goes to Pisew and Sasagiu, too,” she added.
“And the walking on the trail will likely be much better than trying to follow the river,” Gideon pointed out, clearly trying to gain control of the conversation again and reassert his dominance as a man or some crap like that.
“Okay?” I said, looking at James, Carlynne, and Oona. “So if we get separated, head to Pisew falls either following the river or taking the snowmobile trail. We’ll all head there and meet up.”
“And if after a couple days, nobody else comes, then we continue on.” Gideon’s face was grave. “Matt, you know that if we get split up for some reason, we might not find our way there.”
I pressed my lips together not wanting to think of such a thing.
“Fair enough,” I admitted.
“And there’s no point in waiting when all of us will be so close to our destinations,” Gideon went on. “You two are going to Sipwesk lake and you’re basically right there by the time you get to Pisew. Oona and I are heading for Wabowden and that’s only twenty or thirty kilometres from Pisew as well.”
“Clark Lake is further, though,” James said, scuffing at the rigid, frosty grass with his foot.
“All the more reason to keep moving as soon as it’s reasonable.”
“He’s right,” James agreed in a firm tone of voice. “We wait a day or so and if nobody else shows up, we continue on. It only makes sense.”
“Fine,” I said. “But I hope we don’t get separated at all. Let’s break camp and move out. Nessa, I’ll walk you back to get your stuff.”
And as we got out of earshot, I stopped and met Nessa’s gaze.
“We should have something to signal with,” I said, pulling out two bright handkerchiefs from one of my many pockets — one red, one purple. I handed Nessa the purple one and folded the other, putting it back in the pocket on my leg.
“A signal?” She lifted her eyebrows, looking amused. “And a code word, of course.”
I ignored her teasing.
“The handkerchiefs are for signalling. If we wave them, that means we need help.” Her smile dropped as she realized that I was serious. She studied me for a moment, clearly thinking about something.
“Elton John,” she said out of nowhere.
“Elton John?” I repeated.
“Our code word,” she said. “It’s Elton John.”
“Elton John?” I said, bemused. “Why?”
She tilted her head and waited as if I should know, then I laughed out loud.
Of course.
In high school we had both been obsessed with Elton John and had known every word to every song he sang. It was one of the things we had had in common.
“What do we need a code word for?” I said, feeling as amused at her codeword as she had been at my signalling handkerchiefs.
“To prove a message is from one of us,” she said, as if it was obvious. “Or to tell the other person that someone can be trusted?”
She lifted her chin.
“If we need a signal, we also need a code word.” She was adamant.
I smiled at her, shaking my head.
“Elton John it is.”
She waved her handkerchief at me and then stuffed it in the pocket of her jeans.
“Gideon’s talk about getting separated is good because we have a plan. But we’re not getting separated, though.” I met her gaze. “I promise.”
She looked at me with those big brown eyes and I vowed to myself that I would take care of her.
“Right,” she said, nodding firmly. “We’ll stick together. Cause that’s what friends do.”
I nodded, though I felt less confidant than I probably seemed. It was all well and good to make plans but I knew as a guide that having a plan in the wilderness didn’t mean that it would happen. On the contrary, most plans had to be changed — often.
But there was nothing to be done about that except roll with whatever came our way and hope for the best. No matter what, I was glad that Nessa was here with me.
Maybe things were finally looking up. Maybe she might finally see me as someone who could be her boyfriend. The thought sent a rush of energy through my body.
I decided to cling to that hope for the time being. Because the alternative wasn’t something I wanted to face.
Nessa
The sun had just peeked over the trees and was not even close to giving any warmth yet. The smell of spring was in the air — an indescribable scent that only those who spend a winter below zero can understand. It’s as if the sterile odourlessness of winter is replaced with a hundred different smells commingling and you can’t even identify what exactly it is that smells like spring. I breathed deeply, the fresh scent lifting my spirits.
Th
e pack on my back felt like it was about fifty pounds, not thirty, in spite of the fact that we had all dumped as much of our stuff as we could to lighten our loads. I had left my tent and some of my clothes and my metal dishes because someone else had an entire set of six. We had hidden the supplies we were leaving behind in the hopes that we might come back and get them at some point.
But it was slow going because Carlynne, though she only had a small backpack, couldn’t keep up the speed that the rest of us could.
I hated to say it, even in my mind, but that Carlynne chick was a real suck.
She was woefully unprepared for a sixty-five kilometre hike and she wouldn’t stop complaining. It was starting to drive me batty. And we had only walked for about two hours.
She had worn these cute little shoes that looked like running shoes.
But weren’t.
And now she was going on about how her feet hurt and how she was getting blisters. How she would never make it. How she had never walked this far in her life.
“Jesus, Carlynne, enough.” Gideon’s irritation was apparent in his voice. “No one walks or runs this far unless they’re in a marathon or an ultra-marathon. We’ve never walked this far either but we’re doing it.”
“Hey, watch how you talk to my wife,” James said, glowering at Gideon.
“Maybe you should watch how she talks to us,” Gideon said, with a bring-it-on kind of look on his face.
Oh great. If there was going to be trouble in our little band of merry men, it would come from those two. No doubt.
I gave Matt a sideways glance and he rolled his eyes.
“Hey, calm down,” Matt said, putting out his hands palms down. “We’ve only gone a few kilometres. And we’ve got quite a few more to go. I don’t think we should start fighting already. Remember why we’re sticking together? Let’s try and pretend we’re civilized adults,” he said, only a slight amount of exasperation creeping into his tone.
James and Carlynne stalked on ahead in silence and the rest of us let them go. I stifled a sigh and adjusted the straps on my backpack, wishing I could complain, too. But after that little show, I wouldn’t be saying a word.
Anyways, it was a waste of energy to whine and go on about how terrible things were. It wouldn’t make my backpack any lighter, that was for sure. And it was really heavy. It would get lighter as we ate up the food. But for now the straps were cutting into my shoulders and my back was already sore from the strain.
I stared down at the toes of my expensive hiking boots, glad at least that I had brought sensible footwear. Before I bought my cabin, I had done a lot of camping and hiking. And I had the best boots, the best sleeping bag, the best everything.
Oh, come on. I’m a single teacher in Canada, working for the school district with the best contract in the province. I have money to spend, okay? And back then, I spent it on the most expensive camping and hiking equipment I could buy.
I had been wearing these boots for years and I never got blisters or sore feet. Course, I had never walked this far either, so who knew? Maybe by the end of today I would have blisters.
I ought to have more compassion for Carlynne.
But I was exhausted from the almost zero sleep I got the night before and the stress of the entire week. And we were going to try and walk twenty kilometres today. Totally doable for people in their twenties and thirties in relatively good shape — like us.
Well, anyways, I was sure that Matt and Gideon would be able to do it. As for the rest of us mortals, I wasn’t so sure. Especially Carlynne. She seemed to be a bit of a baby that needed a lot of coddling. Already we could have covered twice the distance if she wasn’t having trouble with her feet.
I saw Oona catch up to the couple and offer Carlynne something. I got a glimpse of beige and thought they were probably bandages.
See? Now there was kindness. And here I was just whining about her in my head. Sheesh and I was judging her for complaining.
Matt caught up and walked beside me. We were heading down the middle of the highway because there was absolutely no traffic. There was still gas kicking around here and there but mostly people had burned it up. The gas stations in town were all out. And the hospital was jealously guarding its supply. Literally. I had heard there were R.C.M.P officers standing guard outside the outbuilding where the generator was located.
At that moment, I wondered what was going to happen.
In the future.
What was really going to happen, I mean. Not what I hoped. Not what the government promised. Or what everyone wanted.
I thought for a moment with complete honesty and not a little fear about what my future was really going to look like.
And as I walked down an empty highway with mostly strangers towards an unknown future, I had to face reality. If Hydro couldn’t fix the grid, then things might change completely — forever.
I hadn’t wanted to look at that possibility before now. I hadn’t wanted to believe that the world I had grown up in and had grown accustomed to was gone — just like that.
“It’s hard to believe that our civilization might be ending, eh?” Matt said, not looking at me but staring straight down the road. It was as if he had read my mind.
“Do you really think they won’t be able to fix it?” I forgot about the pain in my back and the straps cutting into my shoulders, wondering what he thought.
I caught his shrug out of the corner of my eye. He didn’t seem to be having any trouble with his backpack, which was considerably bigger and probably heavier than mine.
He didn’t even seem to notice the weight. And it reminded me how strong he was. In this new world where I might be threatened physically, it was a comforting thought. I could fight if I had to. But I was a small woman — only five foot four. And I had done a self-defence class in university but nothing lately.
It made me feel safer to know that he was with me and that we would try to stay together. I sort of felt like I had someone I could depend on. That thought bothered me a little, though. I’m a modern woman. Independent. And responsible for my own life.
But this wasn’t the same world anymore. Right now I needed any allies I could get. I thought about the men that had attacked my car last night. They probably weren’t the only ones taking advantage of the disorganization and confusion to wreak havoc.
“I’m going to really miss social media,” I said, only half-joking.
“And pizza,” Matt added, a gleam in his eye.
“Hot baths at the turn of a tap.”
“Cars,” he said, ruefully, sweeping an arm at the seemingly endless road before us.
“The great god google who knows all,” I said, laughing with a giddiness that felt slightly unhinged. Matt laughed too.
But then the laughter died and I felt a heavy, near-despair invade my heart.
Matt seemed to feel it, too.
“Maybe they’ll fix it.” He turned his head to meet my eyes.
“Maybe they will.”
“If they don’t, we’ll have to adjust.”
“That’ll be quite the adjustment,” I said, in mock-dismay. “Right now I’m wishing I hadn’t read quite so many post-apocalyptic novels.”
He laughed.
“Hey Matt,” Gideon called from behind us. “We should call a halt soon. Don’t want the Lovebirds mad at us because we’re making Her Royal Highness get blisters.”
Matt nodded, ignoring Gideon’s insults.
“Okay. We’ll watch for a good spot to rest.”
Gideon nodded and passed us, looking to the left and right, scouting a spot to stop.
“You should ignore Gideon,” he said, his voice quiet so it wouldn’t carry. “He can be a bit of a jerk. But he knows his stuff. And he’s a good guy to have with you in a tight spot.”
I took in this information and watched the man ahead of us start to jog with his heavy pack on his back. I was sure Gideon was a good guy. But the only person out here that I trusted was Matt. And even that was mo
re of a hope that he was trustworthy than a feeling based on proof.
In this brave new world, I would have to watch my back. Because society was shifting and all the social norms that used to guide us were gone.
You couldn’t really know what anyone would do anymore.
Even your travelling companions.
I glanced over at Matt. His dark hair was mussed and when he felt my gaze on him, his bright blue eyes caught mine.
You couldn’t even know if your old friends were trustworthy in this game where all the rules had changed.
Matt
Hours later after our first stop, the sun kissed the edge of the trees to our right and I knew it would soon be dark. We began to discuss the best place to stop for the night. Gideon suggested Paint lake because of all the amenities but Nessa didn’t agree.
“Paint lake is too far from the road. We would waste valuable time getting in there and then coming back out.”
“I agree with Nessa,” Carlynne spoke up, shifting her weight from foot to foot as if she was in pain. “No extra walking.”
James looked pretty tired and remained quiet while the rest of us talked it out. Oona, as usual, was silent.
“What about Mid lake?” I said. “It’s only a little ways past the Paint lake turn off and it’s right by the road. Plus there’s toilets there and I’m sure we can find a good place to pitch a tent.”
I looked around at the group and when no one else voiced any objections to camping at Mid lake, I made a command decision.
“Okay, Mid lake it is. Let’s get going, if we want to be there before dark.” Which I hoped we would. All I wanted was to go to sleep.
And, man, did I need it. I was bone-weary and I thought I would keel over any second. I wasn’t used to this kind of physical activity, even working as a guide we used boats and quads and sure we walked plenty… not like this, though. But I knew that Nessa had got even less sleep than me last night and she was still pushing through, so I should just suck it up.
