Zombie Night In Canada (Book 2): 2nd Period

by Friesen, Jamie

  “As you are all aware, the situation in the Capital Region is dire. Parliament instituted the Emergencies Act early on in this crisis and it gives us a lot of latitude to deal with this unprecedented situation. Under its provisions, the federal government instituted a curfew, made hoarding illegal and closed businesses and public buildings to stem the tide of infection. It also empowered us to conscript anyone to assist with the emergency, acquire private property, fix prices and so on. As draconian as all that sounds, most of it did not occur. However, the measures taken did not succeed and the world most of you had known is gone.”

  “Here at Edmonton Garrison, we have only one rule – everything you do must advance our position against the infected and in some way, stop this pandemic in its tracks. That means everybody works on the base. If you choose not to, you will not be fed, housed or supported in anyway. You will not be forced to leave the base, but you will be encouraged to do so as there will be no resources given to you by anyone in authority. Now, I see some hands going up, please put them down until after I am finished.”

  “We will find appropriate work for everyone here, no matter your abilities. Whether that is standing shifts on the wall guarding this base or working in a kitchen or typing up reports, we will find ways for everyone to contribute.”

  “While needs will prevail in determining to what task you will be assigned, the questionnaires you filled out while in quarantine will give us some idea of what task would most suit you. After all, it is in everyone’s best interests that you be capable and efficient at whatever task is assigned to you.”

  “You will also be given the opportunity to trade whatever supplies, weapons and equipment you brought with you to the base. Should you choose to do so, you will be compensated for them. If you choose not to, that is fine, but given that most people on the base already have things like food, housing and other necessities, you may find it worthwhile to consider trading in some of your goods.”

  “As I just said, we don’t have many rules here on the base other than that everyone contributes, with one major exception. No one is allowed to carry firearms in public unless they are a member of the Canadian Armed Forces or one of the police forces here on the base.”

  Some people in the audience began to grumble.

  “Now, we don’t plan on confiscating anyone’s weapons, unless they carry them in public places. You will be expected to either lock them up in a secure location, such as a locking gun case. If you do not have that option available to you, then you may put them in our Armoury where they can be stored. I understand that some of you may be upset at this, but we are all living in a high stress environment and it is felt that restricting casual access to firearms will prevent needless tragedy. Before anyone says this is hypothetical, I will tell you this story. After the crisis erupted and we sealed the base off, we let in a large number of civilians, typically people who worked on the base and their family members. One individual suffered a breakdown and murdered not only his entire family of five, but also the family of four that had be billeted in the same house as them. Since that day, firearms have been forbidden in public and have to be locked up unless there is an emergency that necessitates their use. Some of may think this will not eliminate the possibility of a re-occurrence and you would be correct. It will, however, significantly reduce the likelihood of it happening again, and that is the rationale for that rule.”

  “Some of you may not like it, but the consensus on this base is that we cannot have another incident like that on this base due to its debilitating effect on morale. The rules, while they seem very restrictive, are really no more so than those on most firing ranges in the country. Let’s remember, prior to this crisis, nobody except law enforcement officers and military members on duty ever carried firearms in public. This is no different. We will have law and order, no matter the cost. If you have a legitimate need for a firearm in your role on the base, one will be assigned to you and you will be expected to follow all the same regulations as everyone else.”

  “Finally, crime is NOT tolerated on the base. Crimes against property such as theft or assault are dealt with immediately and harshly. In most cases, punishment is exile from the base with just the clothes on your back. Crimes such as rape and murder are capital crimes and if found guilty, the punishment is death by hanging. Cases are tried by a military tribunal and the sentence is carried out immediately.”

  A few gasps rose from the crowd.

  “Now, instead of telling you how things work for civilians on the base, I’ll let a fellow civilian describe her day to you. Cassandra?” He said, motioning to a young woman sitting behind him.

  “Hi, my name is Cassandra and I came here right after this whole thing started – my husband was a contractor here and they graciously let us all come and stay on the base. My day starts at 6 am, when I wake up and get my family ready for the day. We get dressed and head off to one of the kitchens where we get breakfast. My husband typically goes straight to work from breakfast and does whatever is asked of him – as handyman, he does all sorts of jobs on the base. I walk the kids to school and then head to work myself. I was a stay-at-home mom before, so I work in the Headquarters building doing typical administrative tasks like typing up reports and answering phones. I work all day long and eat lunch in the office. I pick up the kids and take them to the same kitchen for supper, then we go back to our tent and relax until it’s time to do it all over again. This happens every day, including Saturdays and Sundays, although you can request an exemption to attend services on the appropriate holy day for your beliefs. Occasionally, your work unit will get an afternoon off, assuming the base is not under attack or lockdown. Then you can spend that time relaxing or doing a recreational activity as long as it’s on the base. I enjoy taking my children to the playground or to a movie in the rec centre. Now, please be aware, this is my schedule and may be very different from yours. Thanks and good luck.”

  Cassandra turned to sit down when Donald blurted out, “But what about…” before he was cut off by Captain Armstrong.

  “Sorry, it’ll be just another minute or two before we take any questions.”

  “That gives you an idea of life on the base, but as Cassandra said, please be aware that everyone’s assignment may be different. I’ve seen people assigned as secretaries, bakers, handymen, labourers and just about any other job you can think of. We have tried to match our needs with your replies on the questionnaire you filled out recently, but we need only so many computer operators and other desk type jobs. Most of the jobs on the base are day labour kind of jobs – building defences and supporting the troops protecting the perimeter. In the event that your skillset is one we don’t need – like say marketing – we will try and find something as similar as possible. You also need to understand that the crisis being what it is, we are operating 24/7, so there are needs for people at all hours of the day and night in all sorts of occupations.”

  “Now, each of you will be provided an orientation package, which will detail your living arrangements, what if anything we are prepared to offer you for the goods you brought onto the base and what your duties will be going forward. When you name is called, please go get your package from Private Wong.”

  Captain Armstrong nodded and Private Wong began calling out names. Xander was the second person to get a package.

  “Barnes, Xander.”

  Xander walked to the front of the room and received an envelope from Private Wong and opened it up as he walked back to his seat. As he began reading the information inside, he started hearing odd comments from others in the room.

  “What the hell…” someone said behind Xander.

  “A cook? Really?” Shelley muttered.

  Xander scanned the document and quickly found out what he would be doing and where he would be doing it. Most of it was obvious stuff, like sex, age and that kind of crap. His work assignment was in the Depot, driving a forklift on the night shift and his new home was going to be tent 33-J in the T
emporary Refugee Quarters on the northeast quadrant of the base.

  Oh well, Xander thought. I guess it doesn’t matter what I’m doing really. At least I’m not in a kitchen peeling potatoes like some sort of bad Army movie. But fuck, it’s going to be cold in a few weeks if I have to stay in a tent.

  He kept reading and stopped at a page labeled Personal Possessions. Apparently, his Pathfinder was surplus, whatever that meant. It also noted the .38 calibre pistol and the ammunition he had, but didn’t note his AR-7.

  Maybe they didn’t realize it was a weapon because it was folded up and looked like a collapsible paddle, Xander thought. I’ll have to double check when I get to the truck.

  They were offering a measly twenty dollars for each of the four jerry cans of gas, and another twenty for all the food, although they didn’t want his homemade jerky.

  You don’t want my jerky? Fine, the more for me the merrier you assholes, Xander thought.

  Farther down the list, paddle was listed, causing Xander to smile slightly. The rest of his personal items were listed as surplus.

  As he finished, his hearing picked up again and more comments from people around the room flooded in.

  “We have to live in a tent in October? Are they serious?”

  “Why are they only giving us only twenty bucks for all that gas we have? Hell, it cost us four times that before the shit hit the fan!”

  “Who’s going to take care of our kids if we both have to work?”

  Evelyn came back and quickly scanned her package. “I’m in tent 2-B, where are you Xander?”

  “Number 33-J. And according to the map, it looks like we on the opposite corners of the campground from each other.”

  Evelyn frowned, “We need to talk to someone about that.”

  As the murmuring grew to animated conversation, Captain Armstrong tapped the microphone at the podium.

  “Let’s settle down people,” he ordered.

  “Hey fuck you Rambo!” Someone from the back of the room shouted. “You’re fucking ripping all of us off!”

  “Stow that attitude right now!” Captain Armstrong barked.

  He took a deep breath and paused, then said, “Look, we know the prices don’t match pre-crisis prices, but the government has empowered us to fix prices for the duration of this event and that’s why what you’re being offered seems low. However, the amount you are being offered is the same as everyone else who has come to the base since the crisis began. It is quite generous and will allow most people to settle in for a few days before they go to work. This allows everyone a transition period, as we fully understand the stress involved and how different life is these days.”

  “Why is my vehicle listed as surplus?” Fred asked. “It’s a brand new, fully loaded Cadillac.”

  “If it is considered surplus, it is because there isn’t any applicable use for in this crisis. If it’s any consolation, I know of only two cases in which someone’s vehicle was considered of value. Even my own Dodge Durango was considered surplus.”

  “Why do we have to live in a tent? It’s the end of October for god’s sake – we’re all going to freeze to death!”

  “The tents we’ve set up in the TRQ are military grade tents and provide excellent shelter all the way down to minus thirty degree temperatures. They are large enough for up to eight cots and have a heater in the centre that keeps the temperature in the tent pretty comfortable, so nobody’s going to freeze to death. We are working on another housing solution, but for now, tents are all we have available. We have clustered families together for obvious reasons and have also segregated individuals by sex, as we had several incidents early on. However, for those of you who are cohabitating, there are spaces you can book for private time.”

  “Why am I getting twenty bucks a day and John is getting forty?” Someone complained as he pointed to the person sitting next to him. “No offense to John, but I have a Master’s degree and he’s a tradesperson.”

  “None taken,” John said.

  “The differences in pay scale are reflective of the skill level in each occupation and its need. Unfortunately, those of you who used to work white collar jobs are going to be in for a shock, as the blue collar skillsets are in much higher demand right now.”

  “Base pay starts at fifteen dollars per day and goes up from there to a maximum of one hundred dollars per day. This may sound low, and for most occupations, it is. However, let’s remember that everything except for your evening meal and entertainment is already paid for by the government – there is no rent, utilities, car payments or any other major expenses for anyone to worry about,” Captain Armstrong said. “Look on the bright side, all of your debt – credit card, student loan, mortgages, and so on, is gone.”

  As Captain Armstrong began answering questions, the mood gradually began to shift to a more positive tone.

  “What about child care?” Xander’s sister, Diane asked. “We both can’t work and leave our son alone in a tent for twelve hours a day.”

  “We set up a day care of sorts in the Family Resource Centre for children under six, and have recently re-opened the school and kids aged six to sixteen are now spending most of the day there. After that, they can spend time in the FRC and wait for a parent to pick them up. We’ve been careful to assign parents to working units that will be as conducive to that as possible. Whenever possible, we’ve tried to make sure that both parents work on the day shift, but there have been occasions where we had to assign one to the night shift.”

  “I know this all seems strange, but odds are, this is better than the conditions you had when we rescued you.”

  “Wait a minute,” Xander said. “We were doing just fine at Costco. The building was secure and safe and we had lots of food, fuel, entertainment options. Sure we had to work, but it wasn’t structured like this and while I can’t speak for anyone else, it feels like we’re losing some of our freedom here.”

  Around the room, several heads nodded in agreement.

  “Those are all fair criticisms, but the fact is if we’re going to survive the pandemic and rapidly approaching winter, we all need to pull together to make that happen. Of course, if any of you don’t want to participate, you’re free to leave the base and head out on your own. You can take everything you brought onto the base and leave any time. But if you decide to stay, then you have to pitch in – it’s really that simple.”

  “We know this crisis has been difficult for everyone and we’re simply trying to save as many people as possible. Our estimates are that as between sixty and eighty percent of the residents in Edmonton may have been infected. This base has already repulsed several major attacks, each of which included thousands of infected trying to get past our defences. So far, we’ve beaten back every single one, but if we fail even once, we’ll be forced to retreat to CFB Cold Lake and any chance of saving the Capital Region is gone.”

  “I’ll try and end on a high note. On the spiritual side of things, Saturday and Sunday mornings, we have religious services for a number of different denominations in the school gymnasium, and given all that has happened over the past two months, they are exceptionally popular. We have a wide variety of entertainment options for people to enjoy. The Sergeant’s & Warrant Officer’s Mess functions as a bar in the evenings, although there is a two drink limit. Movies are shown in the All Rank’s mess building in the evenings and we’ve also set up a shinny hockey league in the arena. If you want to work out, the fitness centre is open 24/7 and we’re even trying to get the Tim Horton’s on the base back up and running. I don’t know about any of you, but I sure could use a Double-double and an apple fritter!” Captain Armstrong grinned.

  Someone who sounded an awful lot like Donald muttered, “Yeah, that just what I need right now, a fucking Double-double. Jesus, what the fuck is going on here?”

  --------

  “So what do you think Xander?” Evelyn asked him.

  “It seems like a bit of rip-off to sell everything for next to nothin
g, but then again, where are we going to go if we leave? I can’t think of anywhere we could ride out the winter. At least we’ll still have the Pathfinder if we do decide to leave.”

  “I’m going to go check the truck,” Xander said. “Why don’t you stay here?”

  Evelyn nodded.

  Xander walked out of the prison and was rummaging in his truck when Private Davis walked up to him.

  “Freedom!” Private Davis shouted.

  Xander smiled and offered his hand, “Thanks for all your help in there.”

  Davis looked at his hand and said, “Since I know it’s safe now, I’ll shake your hand,” as he grinned back. “Just doing my job. What are you doing out here? Shouldn’t you be on your way to the TRQ by now?”

  “I’m still trying to decide whether or not to sell off my stuff. The price they’re offering inside seems like a giant fucking rip-off!” Xander replied.

  “It is a rip-off.” Private Davis said, emphasizing the ‘is’. “Look, Barnes, you seem like a nice guy, some I’m going to give you some friendly advice. Whatever they offered you for your stuff, just take it. Don’t try and keep it, or it will just get stolen, and then you’ll get nothing at all,” Private Davis said. “At least cash you can keep in your pocket where it’s sort of safe.”

  “What do you mean, it’ll get stolen? Who’s going to steal it?” Xander replied.

  “You’d think so, but no. There are some good for nothing layabouts on this base – kind of like your flaky in-law, except they have a real nasty streak. Not very many, maybe a half dozen or so, but they are here. We haven’t caught them doing anything yet, but not one of them has reported for work in weeks and none of them seem to be hungry or any worse for wear. In fact, I’d swear at least one of them is fatter than he was when he came in here,” Private Davis said.

  “How is that possible? They told me in there that if you don’t work, you don’t eat,” Xander said.

  “Well, they still let you eat breakfast, and while it isn’t anything special, it’s still food. And how do they do it? Nobody’s sure, but my buddy in the Military Police thinks that they are running a black market in the Dark Quarter,” Private Davis said.