“We’re not just twiddling our thumbs, people,” the mayor continued. “We’ve got all sorts of plans in the works, don’t you fear, and I’ll be looking for volunteers in the coming days. We’ll need teams to pump water for those who don’t have access to wells, and we’ll need to set up a storehouse for food supplies in a central location. Heck, Mervin’s little store is already almost sold out. I could use some people to store food and so on. There’s a lot of work to be done, and we need everyone to volunteer who is able-bodied. It’d be a shame for resources to go to waste just because we don’t have volunteers to make use of them, or because people are hoarding more than they need.”
The mayor gave a few more long-winded, rambling encouragements, took a few questions, then called the meeting to a close. As soon as he dismissed the crowd, Darryl’s grandmother rose and made a beeline for him, pushing her way through the crowd trying to exit. Darryl slipped past Justine and the Carmichaels and went after her, pushing chairs out of the way to cut across the room. A few people had gathered around the mayor, either to ask about medications or to share problems and suggestions, but Tabitha strode past all of them and walked right up to the podium.
“Leo, would you mind not making a public example out of me in the future?” she said, thrusting a finger in his face.
“I didn’t mean anything by it,” the mayor replied. He glanced at Tabitha, looked at the others who had gathered behind her, then beckoned her toward one of the office doors behind him. When others tried to follow, he motioned them back. They largely complied, but Darryl slipped past them, getting close enough to overhear the conversation. “Listen, Tabitha, I wasn’t making an example out of you. I was sharing a good idea so people can start thinking about practical ways to help each other. I want you to hear what I’m about to say. Most people have figured this out, but maybe you’ve been preoccupied. What’s happening here is not just a local problem. To be quite blunt, this could very well be the big one.”
“What do you mean by that?” she asked.
“I mean, this could be a national catastrophe,” he said. “Heck, a global catastrophe. I’m hearing things, real bad things, about a terrorist organization and stolen nuclear weapons. Things might be bad all over, but I’m trying to get on top of the situation by any means possible before everyone goes into full-blown panic, okay? This could be the end of the world as we know it, and if we don’t start looking out for each other, our community will fall apart fast, especially if my officers confirm the worst when they get back from town.”
His words seemed to calm Tabitha somewhat, as she lowered her finger and sighed. “Look, if anyone needs my help—I mean anyone—you send them right over, okay? Just don’t go offering things that don’t belong to you. Actually, I need milk for my bottle calves, for my own family, and for my immediate neighbors. Poor Horace Bouchard is practically stuck at home, and we’re already taking care of him.”
“Like I said, it was a suggestion,” the mayor replied. “Nothing more. Trying to generate ideas. Pass that along to Tuck, while you’re at it. I don’t need him yelling in my face as well. And, by the way, where is he? I’m surprised your husband isn’t here.”
“Tuck is out in the woods, hunting and fishing,” she said, and then quickly added, “not far from the house.”
Darryl was surprised at how easily his grandmother lied to the mayor. She scarcely missed a beat, and the tone of her voice didn’t change at all. Why didn’t she want the mayor to know Tuck was camping way out in the wilderness?
“Well, let’s hope he hurries back,” the mayor said. “We need all hands on deck. As for you, I don’t appreciate being treated like I tried to steal something from you. I could have used emergency powers to confiscate your cows, if I wanted to, but I didn’t. I just mentioned it.”
“Emergency powers?” Tabitha said, with a derisive laugh. “Aren’t you overplaying this, Mayor Filmore? Seriously. You don’t even have emergency powers. You’re a small-town mayor in rural British Columbia.”
“If this is the big one, saving the town might require drastic measures,” he said, “but I want people to take the initiative to help out.”
By this point, the crowd had closed in again, so Tabitha and Mayor Filmore stopped talking and just stared daggers at each other.
“Well, I’ve said my piece,” Tabitha finally said, turning to walk away.
Clearly, she was done with the conversation, and she hadn’t even brought up the most important issue. Darryl saw an opening and stepped forward before the rest of the crowd could pull the mayor in a hundred different directions.
“Sir, you told us to come to you if we need medication,” he said. “Grandma is diabetic. We could use some of that medication.”
Before all of the words were out of his mouth, he felt a hand clamp down tightly on his arm, and his grandma started pulling him away. She stepped in front of him and addressed the mayor.
“Never mind my grandson,” she said. “I’m fine. My diabetes is under control. I don’t use insulin, and, actually, I don’t need anything from you.”
A slow smile appeared on the mayor’s face, a mirthless smile that didn’t reach his eyes. It suited his gaunt appearance well, as if Darryl were getting a glimpse of the real man behind the wimpy public persona.
“Well, that’s good to hear,” he said. “After all, I can’t just give the medication away. At least, not to someone who isn’t willing to share a bit of milk with the community.” Then he leaned to one side and pointed at Darryl. “We all have to work together, son. Thanks for letting me know about your family’s need.”
Tabitha made a weird explosive sound and walked away, dragging Darryl along with her. She was smaller than him, but he found himself unable to resist her strength and will as she pulled him through the crowd like he was a little kid. As they moved through the room, Darryl saw people glancing in his grandmother’s direction, whispering to one another as if talking about her, and shaking their heads. She’d certainly made the situation far weirder, and why? Why had she reacted so angrily to the suggestion that she share some milk? It just didn’t seem like a big deal to Darryl.
As they passed through the door into the parking lot, Grandma looked over her shoulder and shot one more icy look of contempt in the general direction of Mayor Filmore. Darryl didn’t get it. She clearly hated the man, but why?
I’m not a local, he reminded himself. I’m just visiting my grandparents on their ranch. Maybe they’ve got a bad history I don’t know about.
He dared not ask about it, not when she had fire in her eyes. Still, even if she despised the mayor, her need for medication should have taken priority. Darryl’s mom was waiting for them outside, but Darryl noted that the Carmichaels had walked out to the middle of the parking lot, where they were huddled together. The parents seemed to be in a heated conversation, the dad gesticulating wildly with his hands, but they were speaking so quietly that Darryl didn’t hear a word of it.
Everyone’s pissed off, Darryl thought. I guess the town meeting failed.
“Is there a problem?” Darryl’s mom asked.
“Forget it,” Tabitha replied, finally releasing her death grip on Darryl’s arm. “Let’s just go home.”
Grandma set a brisk pace as she headed north, skirting the edge of the parking lot and crossing the road toward the gap where the unpaved road began. Darryl, embarrassed by the whole situation, didn’t much feel like keeping up with her, so he set his own more leisurely pace.
Maybe I can borrow a horse from someone and ride home to Vancouver, he thought, only half-joking. Dad had picked an unfortunate time to try to reconcile with Grandpa.
He’d just reached the dirt road, his grandma quickly disappearing into the gloom, when he heard a familiar scrape of shoes behind him. Looking back, he saw Justine Carmichael approaching. Her parents and sister were a few meters behind, and Dad still seemed to be ranting about something and flapping a hand over his head.
“Is everything okay?” Darry
l asked, as Justine drew up beside him.
She shrugged. “Just my parents arguing over some supplies,” she said, speaking softly. “Mom wants to share, Dad doesn’t.”
“Sounds like your dad and my grandma ought to be friends,” Darryl replied.
“Yeah, Mom and Dad are both convinced this will all blow over soon. Mom thinks we should donate a few things, just to keep the mayor off our back, but Dad doesn’t want to do or say anything. He thinks it’s far too early to resort to drastic measures, except he can’t say it without losing his temper.” She rolled her head on her shoulders, as if trying to shrug off an unbearable weight.
“Good thing the mayor called this meeting,” Darryl said sarcastically. “He’s got everyone in a bad mood now. That should make things so much easier.”
10
“You brought that compass, didn’t you?” Eustace said, between his deep, heaving breaths. “Why don’t you pull that thing out and let me look at it.”
“We’re not lost already, are we?” Greg replied, digging into his jacket pocket. He felt the lump of the compass and dug it out, unbuttoning the flap of its carrying case.
“Of course, we’re not lost.” Eustace snatched the compass out of Greg’s hand and held it up. “It’s just hard to see the position of the sun with all those tall trees overhead.”
“Why do we need it?” Tuck asked, wiping sweat from his cheeks and forehead on his sleeve. “We found our way to the crash site just fine.”
“Because I’m tired, that’s all,” Eustace said, “and I want the compass. Do I need any other reason? Come on.”
Holding the compass up in front of him, he adjusted his position, turned slightly, and resumed walking, the machete now hanging limply from his right hand. As for Greg, he had unzipped his jacket, and though he was feeling the long hike, he’d actually quite enjoyed it—until the gruesome sight at the end—and he was looking forward to the walk back. Except for these two sweaty old men.
They picked their way back across the valley, though Tuck’s unsteady legs made this more of an effort than it otherwise would have been. He was prone to slip on loose rocks or trip on roots, or just stumble for no particular reason, but the hiking staff kept him somewhat steady. Still, the terrain was rocky, and the trees grew close. Even Greg soon found himself getting tired, and finally, he took off his jacket entirely and tied it around his waist.
“Hard to catch my breath,” Eustace said, at one point. The man seemed to be struggling to get enough air into his lungs. He took each breath with his mouth wide open and his eyes scrunched. “It’s this thin mountain air. I’m not used to it, I guess. I’ll have to get my engineering team to work on that. Pump more oxygen up here onto our land.” As if it weren’t already obvious he was attempting to be funny, he chuckled at himself.
Eustace corrected their course at least a dozen times, and they eventually found themselves moving up a slope again.
When they finally trudged back into camp, it was already afternoon, and the men were wiped out. Emma was seated quietly in front of the campfire, which she’d kept going all morning. She had a book in her lap, and she was flipping through it as they entered. It appeared to be a pocket-sized survivalist handbook, with plenty of illustrations and diagrams. Tommy was sound asleep, his head poking out of the end of his small tent.
“Dad,” Emma said, hopping up as they entered the camp. “I wondered when you guys would get back. What happened? Where did you go? What did you see?”
“Nothing good,” he replied. “I didn’t want to say it before, but I might as well tell you.”
As he described the crash site to her, Eustace stumbled off toward his tent. Emma demanded details about the crash, and she kept asking questions until he’d told her everything. Greg expected it to scare her, but she seemed to accept this news calmly, closing her book and setting it aside.
“A big enough solar flare could cause something like an EMP,” she noted. “So could a nuclear weapon. Either way, Dad, it would affect a huge area, potentially. Like, whole provinces, whole countries. What are we going to do?”
Eustace was already pulling the stakes for his tent, as Tuck shook his friend Tommy awake. Greg considered the difficult road ahead of them, and his heart sank. Hundreds of kilometers to the nearest township, over rough, mountainous terrain.
“I’m sorry to say it, but I think we have to break camp and try to hike out of here,” he said. “We can’t assume they’ll be able to mount a rescue anytime soon, and we don’t want to wait here until our provisions run out. Sorry. I know you were really looking forward to this trip, and you worked so hard on the campsite.”
Emma seemed to take this news rather well. Greg thought she even seemed excited by the prospect, as she nodded and rose from her seat beside the fire.
“Okay,” she said, and appeared deep in thought, biting her lip. A second later, as if she’d made up her mind about something, she nodded and said again, “Right. I’ll get my stuff together. We won’t be able to take all of our gear, Dad, not if we have to hike a really long distance. That means you’ll have to leave some of your nice camping supplies here. We have too many tents, for one thing. Everyone doesn’t need their own tent. You and I can share a tent, and Tuck and Tommy can share another. Eustace…well, he needs his own, I guess. Best to travel light, you know?”
“Good thinking” he replied, trying not to think of what would happen if they ran out of the supplies they could manage to carry.
The surviving portion of the topographic map didn’t show any nearby townships, but many of the nearest streams flowed together into a larger tributary of a river. They decided to try to make for the river and follow it south out of the area and off the map. For their gear, they limited themselves to one full pack each, which meant a lot got left behind. At first, Greg had dumped the sat phone with all of the other gear they were abandoning, but then he’d changed his mind and shoved it into his pack. It wasn’t that big, after all, and maybe somehow he would get it working again.
Eustace had the map and the compass, and he was the only one who had ever been in the area, so he naturally took the lead. This was truly untouched territory, with no sign of human passage anywhere. They headed down the slope, with towering trees looming over them constantly. It seemed they were constantly cutting and pushing their way through leaves and limbs.
Tuck still seemed quite tired from their morning walk, so was unsteady on his feet. His little friend Tommy stuck with him, however, and occasionally muttered some joke or silly comment, as if to take his mind off the discomfort. Tommy had a bad hip, so he had enough trouble of his own keeping up, but he never complained.
They’d gone maybe an hour, still headed down into the valley, when Eustace called them to a stop.
“Catch your breath, guys,” he said, leaning against the nearest large tree trunk. He unfolded the charred map and held it up. “I think we’re on track here.”
“What do you mean by on track?” Tuck asked, grimacing and clutching his hiking staff with both hands until his leathery knuckles turned yellow. “We’re just heading south. How hard can that be?”
“Exactly,” Eustace said. “And we’re right on track, according to the compass and the map.”
“Well, it’s good to know we can walk in a straight line,” Tuck said.
“Your sarcasm is not appreciated, old man,” Eustace said. “I’ve got our whole route mapped out in my head. We walk south to the stream and follow that to the river and follow that to the nearest town. Point A, Point B, Point C, and we’re home. No problem. Got it? Now, there’s hundreds of kilometers ahead of us, guys. It’s too early to start complaining. Come on.”
He took a half-hearted swing with the machete, knocked a few branches out of his way, and resumed hiking. Tuck jabbed his hiking staff into the ground almost spitefully and went after him.
“At least I got rested up this morning,” Tommy said. He had a tendency to kick at loose rocks or piles of leaves along the way, as if he
were a child strolling through the park. “This is sort of invigorating. It’s working the stiffness out of my hip.”
“You say that now…” Tuck said, shaking his head.
They finally reached the bottom of the valley and came in sight of a small burbling creek, the water rushing over mossy rocks. Greg found the sound of it soothing, but the creek also gave them their first broad view of the sky. As Eustace lowered himself to the ground beside the water, Greg cast his gaze skyward, looking for the sun. He finally spotted it almost directly behind them, and he was shocked at how low it was.
“The day is passing quickly,” he said.
“Huh, what was that?” Eustace said, splashing water on his face.
“We won’t get far before sunset,” Greg said. “We’ll have to keep our eyes out for a good place to camp.”
“Camping close to fresh water is always a good idea,” Emma said. “Not too close, of course. You want to be above the water, in case it rains.”
Eustace took a long swig from his canteen, refilled it in the creek, then slowly, achingly rose. “I’ll tell you what, kiddo. Why don’t you keep your eye out for a good camping spot? I think you’re the expert here. When you find the perfect place, let me know.”
At this, Emma beamed, grinning broadly. Refolding the map, Eustace stepped over the burbling water and began tracing a path parallel to the stream. As the group followed him, Greg could hear Tommy constantly encouraging Tuck to pick up the pace. Despite the fact that his dad was a tough-looking old guy, he didn’t seem to have as much energy as the others. Greg wasn’t doing so hot himself. The thin air and rough terrain had already thoroughly worn him out, and he had no idea how he was going to endure days, maybe even weeks of this endless slog.
Don’t think about it, he told himself. Just keep putting one foot in front of the other.
Eventually, they reached a place that prevented them from following the creek—steep rocks rose up before them, the stream gushing down from a high place. Eustace paused here for a moment, scowling at the steep slope as if it had personally offended him. Then, finally, he shrugged and headed a different direction.
EMP: Return of the Wild West | Book 1 | Survive The Fall Page 7
