SO MUCH FOR RETIREMENT…

“Oh my God,” breathed Karen.

“What is it?” asked Sheridan.

“My Dad’s address… his home address… and his cell

number for work,” answered Karen.

“Of all the daft things,” mused Terrence. “Is it him or

someone looking for him?”

Derek groaned and leaned back in his chair. “If it’s him,

I’m glad that I headed back here. The trip to Garson would

have been a gigantic waste… but if it’s someone looking for

him then we definitely know where he is.”

“Do we risk it?” asked Marissa.

“Yes. In this area… other than here… where would

Garrett be?” asked Derek.

“Wait, did you say Garrett?” asked Francis. “Last name

wouldn’t also be Wither, would it?”

They looked over at Francis.

“Yeah, why?” asked Derek.

“Right before everything went silent we granted a travel

pass for one Garrett Wither so he could head up to High Falls,”

replied Francis as he looked from Derek to Karen and back

again. “I was the last one to sign off on it.”

THE LAST IRON HORSE

KRISTAN CANNON

The Last Iron Horse is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are the

product of the author's imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual

persons, living or dead, events or locales, is entirely coincidental.

© Kristan Cannon 2015

All rights reserved.

No part of this book may be reproduced by electronic or printed means without express

written permission by the author.

Published in Canada by KCEditions.

Printed in the United States

Distributed by Ingram Worldwide

First Edition – October 2015

www.kceditions.com

www.kristancannon.com

Library and Archives Canada Cataloguing in Publication

Cannon, Kristan, 1980-, author

The last iron horse / Kristan Cannon.

Issued in print and electronic formats.

ISBN 978-0-9937603-3-4 (bound)

ISBN 978-0-9937603-5-8 (paperback)

ISBN 978-0-9937603-4-1 (html)

I. Title.

PS8605.A5753L37 2015

C813'.6

C2015-906598-4

C2015-906599-2

Other Books by Kristan Cannon

The Kingdom of Walden Series

After Oil

The Last Iron Horse

Ghostwalker (Fall 2016)

To my family and friends;

You’re all patient, if cattle-prodding, people. That’s okay.

Sometimes I need that…

THE LAST IRON HORSE

KRISTAN CANNON

1

CHAPTER ONE

“Hold it right there!” shouted a woman from behind

him just as David Radzinsky stepped into the clearing

overlooking the city of Sudbury.

David shielded his eyes from the sun, and shrugged

helplessly as Abigail and Emilie looked at each other.

The woman and another man approached from out of

the low brush. David looked up to the sky and shook his head.

The three had not seen them—nor heard their approach until

the woman spoke.

The sun’s glare over the rocks to the east had blinded

David and the others. But they had still pushed on—leaving

Lively to continue to Garson. Even the slowly disintegrating

spires below the stack across a serene Kelly Lake that

overshadowed everything was behind them.

Kristan Cannon

2

Strangely, there was still something familiar about the

other man as David finally was able to blink through the glare

to get his first look at him.

“If you make one move towards that rifle we will

shoot,” the man said. “You didn’t come from the same

direction as the raiders… just who are you?”

“My name is David Radzinsky—formerly a constable in

the city police. This is Abby and Emilie. We just came from

Lively.”

“Lively?” asked the man in surprise, although the rifle

never wavered. “That’s quite the trek on foot.”

“Look, now that we’re not strangers now and all,”

pointed out Emilie. “Could you at least tell us your names and

maybe let us put our hands down now?”

The man glanced over at his companion who sighed.

David considered the other man, and then the woman with

him. He had assumed—incorrectly—that the man was in

charge. He immediately recognized another police officer as

soon as he observed the woman closer. She never lowered her

own weapon, but nodded to her partner.

She finally answered, “I’m Adrienne, before I was OPP,

and this is Russell Wither…”

“… Wither? As in Sheridan and Karen Wither?” asked

Abigail, as Russell flicked his gaze over at her.

“Yeah,” answered Russell, lifting a brow. “My nieces…

wait, you did say you came from Lively.”

“Are you the uncle from Toronto?” asked Emilie, and

when Russell nodded, she then looked over at Adrienne. “And

you’re OPP… any chance anyone else survived this mess?”

“A few in Long Lake,” answered Adrienne. “Only a

few towards the city. Answer the damn question.”

David observed the gradual calming of Adrienne’s

stance and said, “Sheridan gave us all shelter on her farm. You

The Last Iron Horse

3

could say we work for her now. Now, like Emilie asked, can

we put our hands down now?”

“Come on, we can talk at the campsite by the overlook,”

suggested Russell, as he lowered his rifle and motioned to

Adrienne to do the same. “I’d like to hear how my family is

doing… and why you’re this far this way instead of still in

Whitefish with them.”

David let his hands drop, and he saw Abigail and

Emilie do the same. Abigail sighed in relief as she looked

around. David crinkled his eyes and then she winked.

“Expedition to Garson to find your brother, actually,”

answered David, shaking his head at Abigail before following

Russell and Adrienne. “We had two others with us, but one of

them was injured while fighting to defend Lively—probably

from the same raiders you’re having issues with, if that’s the

reason you’re so cautious. He had to stay behind to recover

and decided afterwards he was heading back to Whitefish.”

“Damn,” said Russell as they led David into a small,

hidden clearing just off the highway and above the overlook

they had been looking for. “Have a seat. Tara makes a really

good tea and we have some left and you can fill me on how my

family is doing.”

* * * * *

Dane stopped and stared at the unexpected sight of

outsiders at the gate. He looked up to the sky and exhaled a

silent, “Thank you!” before he walked down the short path to

the chain link fence. For a moment he was suspicious as they

did not seem to have a means of travel up here other than on

foot. But since they came up in a good size group he pressed

the apprehension to the back of his mind.

Dane had his hand on the gate lock when he finally got

his first good look at the group. They were not the army, or

Kristan Cannon

4

even representatives of the mine or the company—although he

recognized a few from the smelter and mine directly to their

south.

Some of the strangers had zip ties on their wrists and

looked emaciated, as if they had nothing to eat for months.

He froze mid motion and then let his hand fall from the

gate lock before stepping back. “What can I do for you?” Dane

asked amicably.

“How many people up here?”

“Me, and a few others,” he replied. “We keep the dam

running.”

“Anyone spare?”

“I wish,” answered Dane, already suspecting he was

not going to like where this was leading. “I’m looking for

people. We’re already too few.”

“Well, if that’s the case perhaps we can come to an

arrangement,” said the outsider. “I happen to be in the

personnel business.”

Dane creased his brow, Oh, no this isn’t suspicious at all.

He then whispered, “Interesting.”

“Fair exchange is all I ask for. They work for you and…

well… They are yours,” he finished, and a smirk began to

spread on his face but he stifled it.

This did nothing to alleviate Dane’s rising suspicion on

what kind of personnel he dealt in. Dane held his hands

behind his back to conceal the tremors running up his spine

and down into his limbs. This the part where I wake up from this

nightmare, he thought as he wrestled to keep his breakfast

where it belonged. It had scarcely been six months since all

contact from head office had abruptly vanished. No one had

called, or come up this way to check on them. He had hoped—

but to no avail—that someone would come.

The Last Iron Horse

5

Now that someone had, he understood the worst now

stood at the gate. People had come but they were slavers. No,

seriously… Dane, wake up now. “Are we talking slave labour?”

asked Dane in disbelief. “You do know this is union country,

right?”

“No, my friend, it was union country. There’s no union

out there anymore and no one to stop us,” countered the other

man. “Look, tell you what… I have to head back west.

Eventually I’ll be back this way and when I come back you tell

me what you think. I hope you’ll see it my way. I’d hate to

replace your people with mine.”

The slaver’s threat was hardly subtle and Dane

managed to stop himself from shifting from one foot to the

other. “We’ll see,” he answered, grudgingly.

“Thought you’d see it my way,” nodded the man and

he, and his group, left back down the south road.

Dane returned to the shop office and sorely wished he

had more people. But the fight to oust Garrett had cost him

some of the best fighters he had. It was too late to bemoan the

past now. Given what it had taken to even overthrow him the

older man’s help would have been priceless.

Good job Dane, at least if Garrett was still around you’d have

a solution on how to handle these arseholes, he mused as he kicked

a rock in frustration as he strode back up to the control house.

But no, you just had to have control of the site. The old man had what

you wanted…

…Isn’t this ironic—congratulations, idiot, you’ve got

control… but at what cost now? Dane slammed the door of the

control house closed as he stalked up the stairs to the upper

office where once Garrett had managed the dam. He looked

out the window and, with the view of the road, he watched the

slavers as they backtracked back down the winding road and

down to the railway.

Now what are you going to do?

Kristan Cannon

6

Could he negotiate? He knew if even tried he may as

well damn his soul to the deepest, darkest pit of hell for

consorting with slavers. But what choice do I have? He sat down

in the chair and put his head in his hands. You shouldn’t have thrown

the old man off the dam, moron—he’d have a plan.

Dane groaned and stared listlessly out the window

again and the slavers were out of view. The screech of a train

whistle in the distance betrayed their method of travel and he

sucked in a breath as he felt his heart sink.

It would have to be a damn train. There was no

stopping a freight train—to even try was suicide. I should have

never thrown Garrett off the dam, he realized as he ran his hand

through his hair. Because I’m screwed now…

* * * * *

Two young men perched on top of a military issued

truck meant mostly for transporting goods. The winter had

given way to spring and Aidan Kwan was quite happy to see

the snow finally melt. Unlike Francis, who sat beside him on

top of the truck, he was not actually from the north and the

winter cold enough to freeze his hair solid had been an

unwelcome surprise.

I still can’t believe I survived when the others on that bus

didn’t, thought Aidan as he looked over at Francis and asked,

“Why do we do this every day? You said, as far as you could

tell, your orders weren’t even valid anymore.”

With a shrug Francis asked, “What else would we do?”

Valid point, mused Aidan.

They were left completely with no idea what they could

do with their lives now. As far as either of them knew there

was nothing to go back to in the first place. Aidan had been on

his way from Toronto up to a lodge behind Thunder Bay—a

The Last Iron Horse

7

resort of some sort—as a chef when the bus had been waylaid

by the sudden snowstorm it couldn’t push through.

Francis had been stationed here, his truck left to sit

where the four lanes heading west out of Sudbury and to Sault

Ste. Marie ended and the two lanes began.

The bus was further up the highway on the two lanes

and… well… once he had found Francis they had ventured

back to the bus but it had been too late to help anyone else.

“That’s it, I can’t do this anymore,” fumed Francis. “We

haven’t heard a damn thing. Someone must have run into

trouble or the Primacord would not have been used.”

Aidan sighed. “So, I take it we’re heading that way?”

Francis nodded as he checked his fuel reserves. “We

should have enough to get there and back here, even if the road

isn’t great,” he explained. “At least in Lively we aren’t in the

middle of nowhere and the communications post is there. I

should be able to find out what the hell happened.”

Heaving yet another sigh, Aidan thought about it for a

moment. “I’m guessing at least there I would be able to find

something a bit more… well… better than this, right?”

Francis lifted a brow. “Probably. Truthfully I have no

idea.”

The road behind Pothier and Denlou were, on a good

day, at best rough and had the resemblance of a patchwork of

gravel and halfhearted pavement patches. This had not

changed over the winter.

A small number of holes had opened up but they were

minor and the bulky truck rolled over them with nary a bump.

When they reached the next road—which on Francis’s map

was named Panache Lake Road—the scene was drastically

different. The road was wider, and more in the open…

… And there were two very well armed people on

horseback guarding the road, and one of them pointed at the

truck.

Kristan Cannon

8

“What in the name of hell?” muttered Francis as he

stared out the windshield.

Two people on horses were just as surprised to see

them. Or at least Aidan assumed so.

“Likely heard us coming,” mused Francis.

“Who are they?” asked Aidan, leaning forward in his

seat before he glanced over at Francis.

They looked like something out of the middle ages, but

had modern rifles in easy reach of their hands. Neither of them

wore helmets, and their armour was a mix of dark washed

leather over Kevlar painted in a camouflage pattern.

“I don’t know,” answered Francis.

For a long moment there was an uneasy stand off until

the one of them shrugged and walked their horse near the

driver’s side window. Not so close to be threatening but close

enough they could talk without yelling. Francis rolled the

window down enough to talk.

Both were now in an equally vulnerable position and he

recognized the effort in negotiation. “I’d ask why two people

on horseback are blocking the road,” said Francis.

The woman retorted, “Making sure you’re who you

appear to be.”

“Is there a reason I wouldn’t be?” he asked, and Aidan

saw Francis lick his lips, flicking a glance over to Aidan before

looking back at the woman on horseback.

“We’ve had issues over the winter with, well, I guess

the best way to describe them is ‘raiders’. Looking to loot the

area now since there’s no apparent law to prevent them,” she

answered. “You’re the first sign of anything of Canada.”

Aidan watched the colour drain from Francis’s face,

right before his friend managed to reply—his tone distant, “I

lost communication with our command post before Christmas.

Been stuck up in Denlou with no word and no orders.”

The Last Iron Horse

9

“I have good news and I’ve got bad news, if you’re dead

set on heading to Lively,” she answered. “The good news is

we’ve got people headed that way who are just as curious…

but you’ve missed them. The bad news is, as far as we can see,

the bridges over the Vermillion are out between here and

Lively on both the four lanes and the Old Highway.”

Francis thought for a moment. “So… what do you

suggest?”

“You could talk to Dr. Wither, and her farm is down the

road more,” the other man pointed to the south and further

down Panache Lake Road. “When you get to the gate tell them

Gina and Jabe sent you.”

Francis looked over at Aidan. “What do you think?”

Aidan thought for a moment. “Being on good terms

with a doctor would be nifty. Especially with the resources I’ve

seen so far.”

“Yeah, my thought exactly.” He turned back to Jabe.

“How far down this road?”

“Not far. Maybe one K, at most.”

“All right, we’ll check it out,” agreed Francis.

Jabe nodded over to Gina, and they both moved out of

the way so the truck could turn right and head south. The road

here was wider than the one they had come from, although

there were still spots where it resembled a patchwork quilt. The

hills were gentler as the construction had filled in gaps and

blown through rock cuts. As Jabe promised they came to a

gate—or what was left of one—at the top of the second hill.

Numerous guards were everywhere, and Francis had no doubt

there were more in the woods but hidden and unseen.

He got out of the truck, hands held loosely but

nonthreatening by his side. “Hi, Gina said to talk to Dr.

Wither.”

Kristan Cannon

10

A few of the them looked from one to the other. “I’ll

admit if you took the time to talk then you likely aren’t here to

raid us.”

Francis shook his head.

“How many with you?”

“Just me and Aidan. My name’s Corporal Francis

Montgomery, but given the situation Francis is fine. Or Mutt.”

“Mutt?” asked one, raising an eyebrow.

“Nickname from basic,” he answered. “No idea. Don’t

ask.”

The man sighed and spoke into a hand held radio. A

moment later he turned back. “Terrence is coming up to talk to

you. Don’t take this the wrong way—we’ve had some serious

issues over the winter and he’s kind of protective of his wife.”

“Fair enough,” answered Francis. “I would be too if

Jabe was accurate.”

A few moments later another man rode up to the gate

on horseback. It was at this point Aidan noticed a pattern.

Every horse he had seen so far was typically large, and

black with very little variance. Gina’s had been the only light

horse and more a speckled grey. “Getting the feeling this farm

is a pro ranch,” mused Aidan. “And those black horses are

their specialty.”

“Yeah, I was getting the same vibe,” agreed Francis.

The man did not dismount from the horse and Francis

came out of the truck again. “So, Gina sent you our way,” he

began.

“Where did you come from in the first place?”

“Pothier and Denlou. Got stuck there in the major

snowstorm right before Christmas. I was supposed to be meet

up with the rest of my unit in Lively but according to the intel

from your people there’s no bridge over the big river between

The Last Iron Horse

11

here and there,” he answered. “That, and you’ve got people

headed there anyway.”

Terrence mused over this for a moment and asked, “Do

you still intend on trying to get there?”

“I’ve half a mind to, but I can’t leave an obviously

undefended community with a previous issue from raiders

either,” he answered. “Not when I can clearly help out. I’ve no

orders and the last I heard I likely won’t be getting them either.

If you’ve got a place for us instead of being on the road we’d

do what we can to help out.”

Aidan hackles rose, but he quelled his ire quickly. If

there was no way back to Lively this at least was far more

comfortable than the alternative back in Denlou. The glitter of

solar panels in the distance betrayed the fact they likely still

had electricity, which meant civilization somewhat survived

here. Survival on this ranch was far more attractive than what

was on the road.

“Well, come down to the house at least. Unless you’ve

no objection of walking… but it’s a bit unfair for me to be on

horseback and you on foot. But, I would consider it a personal

favour if you left your truck on the road down there… and still

visible,” said Terrence.

Francis nodded and then got back in the truck as

Terrence moved out of his way to let them drive down the hill.

“Thanks for asking,” said Aidan.

“Sorry… but I thought you’d like having better digs

than in this truck or the church.”

Aidan sighed. “Yeah, that’s why I’m not overly upset

about it. I can see what kind of place it is from here.”

As requested, Francis parked it right across the road,

but made sure there was still enough room for horses to go

around it if they needed to. Aidan got out after Francis did,

and Terrence caught up to them shortly after, dismounting

once in the driveway.

Kristan Cannon

12

The older man tilted his head as if to say ‘Follow me’

and led them to the front of the massive house. Aidan stopped

walking, sucking in a breath, once he caught sight of the

Manor.

Architecturally it was a cross between English Manor

and Northern Cabin made of pale grey granite and dark

stained wood. All of the metalwork was black painted iron

instead of brass.

If Aidan had to guess there were two, maybe three

stories above ground and a basement.

“Holy crap, this is a big house,” breathed Francis. “You

said your wife is a doctor?”

Terrence nodded. “Surgeon, actually. And her cousin is

a veterinarian. I’m a civil engineer. You’re military… and…”

Aidan smiled wanly, still gazing up at the house as he

walked. The closer he got the smaller he felt but instead of

feeling his heart race he felt the warmth, and the feeling of

someone with a near constant grip on his neck eased. “Chef…

actually, fine pastry and baking,” answered Aidan as he tested

his neck as one final knot released.

I haven’t felt that since I was a kid, he mused. I… I hate to

admit it but I’m glad Francis volunteered us…

“Ah,” Terrence said, with a nod. “Just so you know,

Sheridan has a sweet tooth.”

“Good to know,” mentioned Aidan as he lifted his

brow. Maybe if civilization comes back I have a new place to work…

Anyone with a house this big probably needed a

professional cook to watch over things and he could be this

someone.

“When everything was on, you have internet out this

way?” Aidan asked, and he noticed Francis lift an eyebrow.

“Not the fastest on the planet but we had it,” answered

Terrence. “I was in the middle of ordering a T1 satellite set up

The Last Iron Horse

13

when everything went down. We would have needed it to

monitor the field, as well as run certain aspects of the ranch

itself. And I’ll admit I like to play MMO’s in my spare time so

the added speed and bandwidth would have been fantastic.”

“What about a personal chef on the property to keep all

the people fed?” asked Aidan.

“I see why you’re asking,” laughed Terrence. “Well, the

good news is we’re busy enough so we’d like that. The bad

news is her grandmother rules the kitchen so you’d have to

share with her.”

“I can work with others,” grinned Aidan as he followed

the man into the house.

Francis whistled. “Wow, I said it once… but this is some

house.”

“We have the best family gatherings here,” came a

woman’s voice as she walked around the corner from a hidden

hallway. “I’m Sheridan. I’m sure my husband has sung my

praises by now.”

“I’m Francis, this is Aidan,” answered Francis. “And…

well… he has. Nothing you probably don’t deserve though.

Nice place.”

She inclined her head.

The manor said English, or at least some place in the

British Isles, but her hair and faintly dusky skin said something

else. She moved with grace, and her hands were well

manicured.

Terrence said she was surgeon. I can believe it, Aidan

thought. Just watching the precise, exact movement she

controlled with every move made. Surgeons always took good

care of their hands—their very livelihood depended on it—and

Aidan had always found hands attractive as well as the biggest

tell tales of the person’s true nature.

The doors behind them opened suddenly and both he

and Francis jumped as a young man came running in. He

Kristan Cannon

14

stood up as he tried to catch his breath, but Sheridan made a

placating gesture with her hands. “Whoa, catch your breath,”

she said.

The runner shook his head, but still held up a hand with

his index finger clearly communicating, One minute. He stood

up and took another gulp of air, “Sheri, news from the

spotters…”

She lifted an eyebrow before asking, “And that is?”

“Derek’s been sighted at the Fire Hall.”

The Last Iron Horse

15

CHAPTER TWO

Only two Rangers remained in the Manor, and they

stood in the kitchen finishing the last of their tea. The paradox

of their gear held Aidan’s gaze. It’s like they all pick the same

items—or they share their resources, he noticed. Light, as little as

possible to slow them down, but prepared for almost anything.

He had only been here a few hours and already he felt

at home—and the Rangers fascinated him.

It was in the way the Rangers walked… as if they knew

they could handle anything thrown at them and then just

disappear into the forests.

“Are you sure?” asked the first one, leaning on the

counter as he drank his tea.

“That’s what Gina told Colette. She said she saw two

horses and someone with silver hair heading downstream…

Kristan Cannon

16

which means they’d be through the boatyard,” answered the

second one. “Given when Gina encountered them on the

road—they’d be at the Fire Hall by now.”

Aidan tried not to eavesdrop but it was difficult not to.

News of Derek’s impending arrival was everywhere he turned.

And if he formed these Rangers from almost nothing I’d like

to see what he’s like, he mused as he followed Lorraine in the

kitchen while learning her techniques in cooking.

“Cooking without power or ready supply of natural gas

is a different experience,” she explained as she showed him

around the kitchen. Aidan dragged his attention away from

the Rangers. “Until Terrence and the others finish remodelling

the kitchen to have a wood stove and cook top we’re stuck

using the fireplace in the living room. But, even after they’re

done with the building—and making sure it doesn’t catch the

whole works on fire—the principle is the same.”

“I imagine keeping the heat controlled may be a large

factor,” he considered. “The fire will bank and die if you don’t

keep a balanced supply of fuel, and add too much it will flare

up.”

“Exactly,” she agreed. “Much of it is simply patience.

Stir, and add a few pieces of wood. Mind you, baking is better.

Coals keep their heat steady and for a very, very long time. It’s

slower than other methods, but the principle is the same as

baking in a regular oven.”

“I imagine you make one mean pizza,” said Aidan, with

a laugh.

“Better than I have in the other, anyway,” she

countered.

Aidan stared out the window to the solar fields just

beyond the pasture for the horses. The two Rangers had left

the main hall and now were by the fence checking their gear.

Soon, like the others, they would also be off on one of their

The Last Iron Horse

17

patrols. Lorraine glanced up and lifted her eyebrows, “And

that’s why Derek left in the first place. He went to find my

son—or anyone else—who might be able to engineer a solution

so the field could power the area. We have so much here in the

way of trades, and even some engineers, but not one has the

expertise we need.”

“I had wondered,” he admitted, dipping his head as a

slight blush crept up his neck. “But you do have power at least

some of the time.”

She must have thought I was looking at the solar field… but

she’s got a point. They could generate so much power but right now

they’re kind of useless.

“Ah, we had a few panels spare. All it took was an

electrician or two to figure out the proper wiring and supply

issues to install them on the roof of the house to give us this

much. It keeps the fridges cold, runs the water pump, the

filters, and heats up the hot water tanks. Bare necessities to

make things a little more bearable.”

“At least you have that,” he admitted. “And this Derek,

who is he?”

Lorraine exhaled and answered, “A friend of my late

husband’s, as well as my son’s. Worked for us twenty years

ago and even after my husband retired kept in contact despite

having to find work elsewhere.” She shrugged. “Not much

more to really tell. He’s like everyone else… just trying to

survive and find his place in the world.”

Aidan crinkled his brow as he picked up the tray of food

and followed Lorraine outside to the summer kitchen. He

realized then this Derek was not a young man like he and

Francis. If he was a colleague of Lorraine’s late husband, and a friend

to her sons, it puts him into at least into his fifties… and he still left

the safety of the farm to… what?

Kristan Cannon

18

“Let me get this straight… he went out with a few others

younger than him when he could have stayed here?” asked

Aidan.

“Derek was never one to sit on the sidelines,” explained

Terrence as he walked up the stairs to the patio, catching the

tail end of the conversation. “I’m not surprised he dove in with

both feet.” He turned to Lorraine. “Teaching him the tricks of

the trade, are you?”

“He was interested, and given he’s a cook I decided to

fill in the gaps of his fancy arse education,” she answered while

poking Terrence in the ribs. “Get out of here, you’ll ruin your

appetite for supper.”

Terrence opened his mouth and raised his brows almost

as if he were going to say something in reply but Lorraine beat

him to it. “Yes, yes, I know. Not likely with you. Here,”

Lorraine said as she pushed a roll of bread into his hands.

“Take this and share a few bites with Sheri while you’re at it.”

“All right already,” he ducked his head and retreated

back into the house and the main hall off the kitchen.

The room there used to be the formal dining room.

Aidan could tell by just looking at it. The room had never been

a favourite so they used the little nook behind the kitchen

instead. Now they used the formal dining room as council

chambers.

Aidan had only helped Lorraine in running the hectic

dining room and main hall.

It was as demanding as any of the restaurants he had

been trained in—perhaps more so. People were always coming

and going as the farm took many hands to function. Lorraine

cooked in batches and never by ‘short order’.

She was also restricted to what was in the vicinity.

Produce and livestock, and rarely one of the Rangers or a

hunter would bring in fresh fish or game. The option of

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19

running to a local grocery store or market was now gone.

Exotic fruits or other food stuffs were now a historical footnote.

While he did not have to keep track of orders as

Lorraine decided the meals for the day and then cooked on the

fire, if need be, he was still kept busy.

Francis and Aidan had a place to sleep on Sheridan’s

third floor. It was more of a converted attic and far away from

the main fire places but still warmer than the alternative.

And therein was the other problem.

It was warmer than the other places in the house to

sleep and summer was impending. The nights were slowly

changing from unbearably cold to actually comfortable. Soon

it would be as hot up there as one of Lorraine’s ovens.

With a sigh he finished the tasks Lorraine had given

him, and she shooed him out. “Go on, you. There’s plenty to

do outside as well if you’re so inclined. Even if you’re not

there’s still plenty to see.”

Aidan did not need a second invitation. Instead of

going outside he headed upstairs and to the communal library

area. The large flat screen above the fireplace was dark, and it

was quiet up here. Most of those who lived in the Manor

preferred to spend their time outside. Unlike them Aidan was

not a big fan of the outdoors and preferred pursuits which

challenged his mind. The collection of books here rivalled

some of the branches of the Toronto library.

But today he was not alone.

The man he found already there was tall—perhaps

taller than even Terrence—and his head shaved bald. Aidan

almost turned and left before the other man realized he was

there but then he decided against it. The room was one of the

shared areas of the Manor and he was as welcome here as

anyone else. Still, the manners drilled into him by his family

were hard to ignore. He took another step to bring himself

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20

fully into the room and said, “Sorry, didn’t realize there was

someone else here.”

The other man looked up from the couch and lifted an

eyebrow. “Plenty of room, kid,” he responded. “Haven’t seen

you around before.”

“I just came in from Denlou,” Aidan said.

“You’re from Denlou?” he asked. “Don’t take this the

wrong way, but I didn’t think there were many Chinese

Mennonites.”

“There aren’t,” retorted Aidan. “I was stuck there for

the winter.”

“Ah,” he said as he put the book down. “You from the

area at least?”

Aidan shook his head. “Toronto.”

“What brought you all the way up here?”

For a long moment Aidan considered just telling him

his standard answer. It was on the tip of his tongue but instead

he answered, “Family issues. I hopped a bus with the first job

offer as far away as I could get from my family.”

“I see,” he said. “Well, nice to meet you. My name is

Tyrell, or as the others have taken to calling me ‘Lord Tyrell,

the Master Smith’. Sheridan still rolls her eyes at everything

but in reality what we need is a new government—if you ask

me.”

“Good to know,” said Aidan. “Aidan… a cook, pastry

chef, actually.”

“You’re the one helping out Lorraine. The woman’s a

damn fine cook but she can only do so much and trust me when

I say this—we've noted your help here,” said Tyrell.

“So whose idea was it to make her Queen?” asked

Aidan.

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21

“Mine—if you must know,” he answered, and when

Aidan’s eyes widened he laughed. “You weren’t expecting

that, were you?”

“No… I must admit I wasn’t,” answered Aidan. “I

actually expected she had… or Terrence had. Not that

someone from outside had.”

“It made sense—” he supplied, and pointed to the other

couch. Once Aidan had sat down across from him he

continued. “If not for Sheridan—remember, it was Sheridan’s

kindness and not anyone else’s—we’d all be dead by now. Of

course, outside of this being her property and also her

resources we eat up every day.”

Aidan crinkled his brow. “Oh sure, sure if not for us

she’d not be able to run the farm but reality speaking she

would have found a way. But… she let us come here and for

the first bit we virtually ate her out of house and home and

what did she do?” Tyrell paused as he took a long drink of the

glass of water sitting on the table beside him. “Nothing… other

than worry how she was going to carry on making sure we

were all safe. Not once did she protest about us being a drain

on her resources. Long story short it makes her the best choice.

Or so I put forward and we all agreed.”

“So now she’s Queen,” mused Aidan. “One part is luck

of owning the farm and the other because of popular approval.

And she takes it seriously?”

“She set up the provisional council and, yes, while she

hand-picked the first members of her council she at least did

something. I’m on it, Terrence is on it… hell, half the people

you’ve met are on it. The question is where do you fit in?”

“There an opening on Council?” he asked.

“Unfortunately you’d have had to show up earlier than

this,” he countered. “But, Lorraine’s taken a shine to you and

while the inner council has been filled I understand things are

slowly progressing to an outer council—a grand council—as

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22

well. The longer we go on the more we’ll need to keep it

organized.”

Aidan leaned back in the chair. “Why are you telling

me this?” he asked.

“You look like you’re settling in here. Like you want to

stay. I didn’t know if anyone else had filled you in and from

the look of it no one had. So I did. You okay with it?”

“Yeah, I’m fine,” answered Aidan, and then he sighed.

“You think she’ll let me stick around?”

Tyrell let out a bark of laughter. “You try leaving!” he

answered and then sobered. “Well, she wouldn’t stop you

from leaving if you actually wanted to go—she’s all about free

will and free choice—but she wouldn’t want to see you leave

either. If no one wanted you here… especially if she didn’t…

trust me when I say you’d have been gone a long time ago.”

He was about to say something else when he looked out

the front window. He straightened up, and then stood up as

he craned his neck to watch the two riders as they passed by

the windows. “Well, I’ll be…” he said as he softly backhanded

Aidan’s shoulder.

Aidan rolled his eyes and smirked as Tyrell—far too

excited by the sight of the riders—was no longer paying any

attention to him. What little he had seen before they were past

the windows was of a man older than Aidan, and judging by

the stiffness of his posture he had been on horseback for many

hours.

A woman, silver haired and whip thin, rushed to help

him down.

Tyrell ran around the corner and down the spiral stairs

to the first floor while Aidan was close on his heels. Terrence’s

office, and usual haunt outside of the war room, was right here

at the end of the hall. His windows faced inside the open

garage and also in the back yard. Trees and other landscaping

The Last Iron Horse

23

impeded his view of the two riders so he would not have seen

them enter the yard since he was also just walking into his

office.

He whirled in surprise when Tyrell took two giant steps

and said, “Derek just rode in towards the barn.”

Terrence dropped the book he was holding on the

closest chair and followed Tyrell out to the back yard. The

other two were cooling down their horses in the small exercise

area. Or, at least, the woman was while the man—Derek,

Aidan assumed—propped himself tiredly on the steps as the

two other older men shot past him before even realizing he was

there.

Aidan chose to hold himself back from bounding down

the steps towards the silver haired woman. Instead he walked

down the wide stairs to the ground where a man sat on the

brick retaining wall. He stared into a set of blue eyes both

curious—if his slightly raised eye brow was anything to go

by—as well as drained to the point of not being able to bear it

anymore. The man was not sitting so much as leaning on the

retaining wall, head on the railing of the stairs. His eyes were

only open because his chosen location to finally rest was

awkward and uncomfortable. He had to blink every so often

as if even this was not quite enough to keep his exhaustion at

bay.

Aidan hesitated, and then took the last three steps down

to the yard so he was on an even keel with the man. At first he

was not sure what to say to break the silence, but his doubt

vanished when Tyrell and Terrence turned around.

“Derek!” exclaimed Terrence as he pulled the older man

to his feet to shake his hand.

Derek was about to reply when he swayed. Terrence

caught him to avert a painful tumble, and then helped him sit

back down on the steps. Aidan pulled back, knowing the need

for the two friends to have some privacy. Tyrell looked over at

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24

Aidan with a nod, and touched Terrence’s shoulder, “We’ll be

around if you need us.”

“Do me a favour and tell Sheri to find us in her clinic.”

“Aidan?” asked Tyrell.

Aidan nodded, satisfied for the task as it gave him a

chance to get away. Tyrell was already headed into the first

entry way—doubtless back to his usual haunts of either the

garage or the basement where his tools were in easy reach.

Terrence turned his attention back to his friend. “You’ve seen

better days.”

“I’ve felt them,” replied Derek as he opened his eyes.

“Wow, I think I’ll just sit here and rest for a second.”

“Yeah, but if I leave you here not only will Sheri have

my head, so will your wife,” pointed out Terrence as he helped

Derek back up to his feet. “We’ll take it slow, if it helps.”

“You’re going to walk me all the way up to my wife and

I’s room?” asked Derek, an eyebrow rising in amusement.

“No, I’m going to walk you to Sheridan’s clinic and

there you’ll stay until my wife has a chance to look at you.

After that, and a shower if you want one, if you still need the

hand up there I’ll walk you up there,” countered Terrence.

Noting Derek was about to object he pointed out, “If you don’t

head to the clinic, how fast will Reese kill you?”

Derek sighed, “Point taken.”

* * * * *

Kirk leaned against the door jamb, watching the road

leading into the town on the south shore of the narrow and

aptly named Long Lake.

An older woman—perhaps older than even he was—

came and joined him for the view. At first he had hated Tara

and everything she stood for. While they still did not see

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25

everything eye to eye, especially since their faiths were polar

opposites, he could admit her advice and wisdom in regards to

the area and also surviving were crucial. She had a good heart

and always tried to see the best in people.

Perhaps it was this last which made him wonder if he

was too quick to judge her based on some preconceived notion

of what he thought he should believe about her.

Not like she did not judge him based on the same—she

did.

“The summer looks to be a dry one,” she pointed out.

“Not good when we consider the issue of wild fires without the

aerial or land based support. We’ll have to plan for it

ourselves.”

“What led you to this?” he asked.

“It’s already too dry this early into the summer,” she

answered. “While the winter gave us plenty of snow it’s

already melted and the water level has hardly raised. This

means the water table is lower than it should be—and since

we’re not exactly all the way out of spring yet…”

Kirk sighed. “We’re in trouble. What else?”

“Russell and Adrienne are overdue,” she answered

finally.

With a shrug he turned back and made his way into the

community centre. “I wouldn’t worry too much about it. Russ

and Adi can take care of themselves. They survived up in a

cabin all winter to the north of us with nary a peep and even

less supplies.”

“So, you’re not concerned at all?” she asked,

incredulously.

He shook his head. “I am—like I would be anyone else.

I really don’t want to lose another nephew but I can’t do

anything about it but hope, and pray, nothing has happened…

and for their safe return.”

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26

Tara put a hand on his shoulder in consolation. “I am

sorry about Daniel.”

With a small smile, he laid a hand on hers, patting it

gently. “You’re a good woman, Tara, why aren’t you

married?”

“What makes you think I wasn’t? I might have had a

husband or two who I’ve outlived in my time, for all you

know.”

“Interesting.”

“And wouldn’t you like to know!” she huffed, as she

used the same hand only moments ago had been on his

shoulder as she shook her finger at him. “And here I am being

sensitive and you throw in the fact I’m a good woman therefore

I need a husband. Bah! I’m fine on my own, thank you.”

Kirk backed off, holding his hands up and making a

motion to indicate his surrender and to hopefully calm her

down. “I didn’t mean anything by it. I meant that any man

would be more than lucky to have you as his wife… and please

don’t kick my arse about that.”

She took a breath and calmed down. “All right, I’ll

grant you the compliment you meant it as.”

* * * * *

There were no signs of any communications from his

colleagues in Ottawa or even Kingston. Dr. Robert Kaine could

admit he was beginning to worry. Not enough for rash

actions—he was not a man known for such things—but

enough to drive him into a brood.

A soft knock on his door dragged him out of the brood.

“Come in,” he called, not even bothering to reach for his cane

to stand up.

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27

The former mayor of Sudbury, a slight woman of Italian

descent, came in and watched the bank of screens. “I honestly

have no idea what it is you look for on these,” she pointed out.

Kaine chuckled. Valeria Piacentini was… well… he was

never sure what her game was. He was able to order around

the others here, or manipulate them into doing what he

wanted. She, however, was not so easily controlled.

Sometimes, after retiring for the night and thinking

about how some discussions had gone, he realized his own

tactics had been used against him. Somehow he had been the

one manipulated.

I like a game of cat and mouse, but I’d rather I was the cat, he

mused as he watched her read by the window in his office. Some days

I’m not sure if I’m the mouse or cat… or if we’re both the cat.

Unless we’re both the mice.

“Now that’s a fascinating thought,” he pondered aloud,

as the latter never occurred to him.

“What is?” she asked.

He shook his head as he got up and shuffled over to the

bank of screens. “If there was actually something to watch for

I would have something on them to see—it would be quite

clear, Madam Mayor,” he replied. “As such there is nothing to

see which means… well… there’s nothing to see.”

“And there should be,” she guessed.

“Yes,” he answered.

She twisted around to regard him. “Do you think,

honestly, one day we will have our former lives back? Or this

will resolve itself?”

Kaine thought for a long time. “No,” he replied. “Much

as I… well, I think I want it to. But do I honestly think it will?

No—what we get back will be fought for and bled for by

ourselves.”

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28

He looked up just as a screen lit up, and then went

dark—then lit back up again. Valeria observed it and tapped

her finger with the pattern. “What the hell is this?” she asked.

“It’s Morse Code,” he retorted.

“I know that. I also know what it relayed. It just doesn’t

make any sense. I think it was a phone number, and perhaps

an address…”

Kaine regarded what he wrote down. “I think you’re

right. Local number—and the address to someplace in Garson,

I think.”

“Anywhere in particular?” she asked as he laid out a

map.

Kaine was confused. It did not make any sense to him

at all. “Ah, just somewhere in the residential area… suburb…

perhaps someone is looking for someone,” he sighed. “Trying

to call home—hoping someone will relay it and find their

family, I think. Unfortunately, I don’t think they will ever get

their answer.”

Valeria looked down and then out the window and over

to the lake which was still grey, dark and cold. “Another lost

with no way to know if their loved ones still live… and the sad

part is they likely don’t.”

Kaine rested a hand on her shoulder. This was why he

scrutinised his screens so closely. While he knew where his

family was, and what they were doing; there were others

within the confines of the university who would never know

the same.

The only exception was one communication in the

spring. He still found himself wondering if he should tell her

about it. On one hand she would then at least know the man

who had covered her escape died.

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29

Yet she still hoped for Daniel Wither to reach

Laurentian. She had not given up hope one of these days he

would wander in.

Kaine knew better.

He had listened to the heart breaking communication

between brothers and colleagues. He had a fair idea of where

the man’s body now lay. It would be easy enough to take the

boat the mayor had arrived in—or even any of the other boats

still around—and find his body.

Not that I want to hear that again anyway. His psyche was

left in enough shattered fragments the first time to make him

wish for the resources to drink himself into oblivion while in

the dark of his own apartment.

Kaine was at once jealous of the relationship the

Withers had—even now—compared to his own fractured

family. Eventually he knew he needed to tell her and the

remnants of the Sudbury Police of what happened to him.

He just could not bring himself to do it yet.

* * * * *

Finding Sheridan was actually rather easy and Aidan

ran up to her, careful to do so from behind but yet within sight

and waited for her to release the tense string and let the arrow

she had already nocked fly to its target. She turned to him, her

eyebrow raised in surprise. “Aidan, wasn’t it?” she asked.

“That’s me,” he answered, a smile on his face at her

remembering who he even was.

There were so many running around meant her even

remembering one person’s name was rather impressive. He

stepped forward and said, “Tyrell sent me to find you. Derek

just rode in a few moments ago.”

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30

For a moment she clearly was at a loss for words, and

then her eyes narrowed as him she knew there was something

else.

“What else have you heard?” she asked plainly.

“More saw,” he answered honestly. “He didn’t look like

he was in the best of shape when I met him. He looked dead on

his feet, actually.”

At this final bit she passed him her bow and asked,

“Could you do me a gigantic favour and take this up to the

house?”

“Sure,” he answered, and she smiled then before

turning and jogging back to the manor herself.

Aidan turned the bow over in his hands, and then

picked up the quiver of arrows. It was an old fashioned long

bow but instead of being made of wood it appeared to be made

of fibreglass and the arrows were equally simple. He did not

know enough about archery to know if this made the bow

special or not, or if was just a crappy bow used for practise

only. But, he had said he would do as she asked so he picked

up the equipment, even going so far as to retrieve the arrows

she had already flown.

He walked up to the hay bale and noted the pattern on

the target—which was no more than a simple white sheet—had

been painted with a pattern to look like a dart board instead of

the usual target. Despite this, most of the arrows were clustered

close to the central red ‘bullseye’ but with a significant spread

to the upper left as if her natural inclination was to shoot high

and to the left, but had quickly corrected to where she needed

it to be.

Once he had retrieved them all he picked everything up

and walked back to the manor. The back sloped down towards

the river and the barn was lower than the rest of the house. This

meant the basement was ground level at the back, but not in

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31

the front. The first floor—a mere two feet, three at most in the

front—was a full level above instead of ground level and the

deck supported by thick pilings and timber supports.

A less formal sitting area was built here, and another

living space more meant for entertaining or working out, sat

beyond with more rooms behind. This made the actual third

floor tower over everything. The manor looked twice as big

from the back, as if there were two massive houses stacked on

top of each other. The one facing the back was less formal and

more comfortable while the front facing, and upper level, was

formal and meant to impress new visitors.

The reality was those who knew the Withers tended to

bypass the more formal upstairs and head straight downstairs

to this space.

Although, really, even with the relative formality of the

upstairs it was still all warm and welcoming anyway.

To the side on the lower level was a room where all the

sporting and hunting equipment was kept in lockers. Tyrell

ruled this area and—by now—he had returned to it. He looked

up when Aidan came running in with Sheridan’s bow and

quiver. “I was wondering if I’d see you back here,” he said as

he checked everything over. “Found all her arrows, but one,

but it’s okay. She probably buried it in the hay.”

“Like a needle in a haystack?” mused Aidan.

Tyrell snorted in amusement. “I’ve heard that old joke

so many times now it really should stop being funny but, oh

hell, it still is.”

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32

CHAPTER THREE

“And basically that’s the whole story,” finished David,

as he took a sip of the tea. “Derek and Marissa went back to

the Manor and we kept going.”

Russell leaned against the tree as he stared into the fire.

He was relieved his mother and two nieces were alive. It’s at

least a start but there are still too many left unanswered for, he

thought. I still have a nephew out there…

…And then there’s my own family still out of reach, and

Toronto would be a hundred times worse than here.

He refused to let his thoughts head down the same dark

path he found himself during the winter once he realized there

would be no getting back to them—ever. He could only take

each day as they came. Although he had, more than a once,

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33

planned his own expedition to Toronto, it meant leaving

Adrienne and his Uncle Kirk behind.

David’s explanation only relieved the worry about

Russell’s family in Whitefish, but little else. He stood up and

looked over at Adrienne. “Are you thinking what I think you

are?” she asked and he smiled.

“If small areas are forming their own independent

states then perhaps it would be best if we took them to Kirk—

maybe form an alliance between us and Walden,” answered

Russell as he turned back to the three. “At least then we’d have

a fairly large swathe to trade resources.”

“If the raiders don’t kill us before we get there,” pointed

out Adrienne.

This caught Abigail’s attention. “What raiders?”

“Gangs—some members old, some young—gone

feral,” answered Adrienne, shaking her head. “Nothing

organized, or large, but annoying and still dangerous all the

same. If I had to guess, they’re one of the criminal groups the

city has had issues with off and on over the years. Only now

with nothing organized to stop them they run wild though the

city and the area.”

“And thankfully not far enough to penetrate into Long

Lake,” said Russell. “Enough to keep us on our toes but the

community has never been threatened.”

“But you two still keep a close eye on it all so Long Lake

can get enough warning if they decide to push farther, right?”

asked Emilie.

Russell nodded and he led the three back up to the road

towards the overpass which once served as the turning point

to head into either Sudbury—or towards Long Lake. While he

wished the three could stay in Long Lake, he understood why

they felt driven to find his other brother.

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34

Not that I’d wouldn’t like to know for myself, too, Russell

paused to watch the others walk ahead of him. I would, and I

do—I’ve already lost one brother. Not about to lose another…

As they came down the last hill it was Adrienne and

Abigail who noticed something was not right.

A large encampment had been set up underneath the

over pass and there was no way to pass around, or over it,

without being noticed. “What do you make of this?” asked

Emilie.

Russell shook his head. This was new to them and it

looked like it had only been there a day or so at most. He and

Adrienne usually included this as their regular patrol it had not

been there the last time they had been through. It did not look

like a raiding party and instead it looked far more like a

settlement, or some other roving group.

“Let’s just… wait this one out,” David suggested,

looking over at the other two with him. “It could be likely

Naughton all over again… or it could be like Lively. We won’t

know until we wander in and I’d rather scope this out a bit

more before we do.”

I wonder what happened to make you hold back? There

could only be one conclusion. David and his people could have

only run across a similar situation and nearly not walked back

out of it again.

“How things have changed,” he mused. “Now we

come across an apparent settlement and we’re not sure how to

proceed.”

David grunted in agreement, but the decision was taken

from them when screams and the sharp retorts of gunfire filled

the air. “Raiders!” shouted Adrienne as she pointed.

David looked over at the other two, and they nodded

their agreement as they pulled out their weapons and prepared

them. “I’m not leaving a group of innocent people

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35

undefended… you can come or you can stay!” he yelled back

as he ran towards the bridge.

Russell hesitated, but Adrienne was already ahead of all

of them. “Shit…” muttered Russell as he ran to keep up the

pace as the others now had a head start.

* * * * *

Deja-vu was never pleasant and in this case it was

particularly unwelcome. As she walked into her clinic she saw

Marissa trying to help her husband take his shirt off while he

struggled not to shout or swear at the pain he was obviously

in.

Sheridan could have sworn less than four months ago

this very scene had played out before her after Abigail had

pulled Derek out of a flooded barn before it was swept away

by the current of the river.

Once they had taken him back to the manor from the

barn, and in this very bed, he had lain between life and death

as a fever, and pneumonia, had ravaged his body.

Back then she had been unsure of his survival and while

she was glad this time he was awake, and healthy, enough to

protest she would have rather not repeated seeing him in her

clinic outside of perhaps being there for a yearly checkup.

Terrence stopped right behind her and in the doorway.

“Let me know how he is,” he said quietly as he pulled her

aside. “We can wait for what he wants to tell us. His health

comes first.”

“Of course it does,” she answered as she quirked an

eyebrow up. “If you thought I was going to let you and your

‘war council’ anywhere near my godfather until I was done—

to my satisfaction—checking him over you had another thing

coming anyway.”

Terrence snorted. “I don’t doubt it.”

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36

Sheridan patted his arm. “I’ll let you know how this

goes and if he’s in any shape to share what he learnt.”

Terrence nodded and then left them alone. Sheridan

turned back and stepped all the way into the room so she could

be seen. The minute Derek saw her he looked down and the

first thing to come out of his mouth was, “Shit.”

“Oh come on, you knew the minute you were brought

in here I would immediately be informed of your injuries. I

might have other duties now but this is still my clinic,” she

pointed out gently as she helped Marissa get the shirt off.

Sheridan winced as she gently examined the burns. “I could

have cut the damn shirt off, you know. It would have been less

painful.”

“Shirts aren’t exactly easy to come by now,” answered

Derek ruefully.

“They might not be easy but we can manage just fine,”

answered Sheridan, lifting her eyebrows. “They just might not

have the modern cut you’re used to.”

Derek held himself as still as possible as Sheridan

cleaned his back. He knew she was being as gentle as possible

but each little poke and prod sent white hot needles right into

his ribs. Abruptly she stopped and moved around so he could

see her. “Reese, could you leave us for a moment?” asked

Sheridan.

For a moment Marissa looked like she was going to

argue but their goddaughter was in her ‘doctor’ mode and

while it had been worded as a question she had no doubt it was

not. Finally, Marissa nodded and left the small room. “Okay,

how bad is it if you sent my wife outside?” asked Derek,

suddenly more than slightly worried.

“Oh, not bad,” answered Sheridan honestly. “Again,

with rest and not pushing yourself I expect you’ll recover just

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37

fine. You may, however, have a bit of scarring on your back but

it shouldn’t be too noticeable.”

“So… why did you send Reese outside again?” asked

Derek, puzzled.

“Because I know you,” she answered. “And I know how

you handle pain. You’re almost ready to pass out from it, or

possibly cry, but if Reese is in here you’ll do neither. And,

honestly, if you’re out this is easier on both of us. You won’t

feel it and you’ll be nice and still for me.”

He laid back down on the mattress of the clinic bed

while rolling onto his front and leaned his head on his arms.

“Doesn’t surprise me. Your friend in Lively didn’t think I

should leave.”

“My friend…?”

“Dr. Assad.”

For a moment Sheridan was quiet but then she asked,

and he could hear the relief in her voice. “He’s still alive?”

“Yep,” answered Derek.

“Good,” answered Sheridan. “You didn’t answer my

question.”

“Do what you have to,” he answered finally. “So long

as it takes the heat out of my back.”

He heard Sheridan rummaging behind him and the

sudden coolness, and lack of pain, on his back was a physical

shock. For a long moment all he could do was lay there and

wait for the sparkles in front of his eyes to fade as he pushed

his forehead down into the mattress and forced himself to take

deep breaths. It was a strange dichotomy of sensations. Both

relief and intense, sudden, stabbing pain. The pain faded and

was then replaced by simply numb.

“That’s better,” he breathed finally, wiping hot tears

from his face.

“If it’s any consolation you didn’t scream,” mentioned

Sheridan quietly.

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38

“Not really,” he answered, and then, to replace the

digging and poking, the even stranger realization she was still

doing something to his back but he could not, at all, feel it.

Bone numbing tiredness swept over him again like it had

outside when they first arrived. “You wouldn’t mind if I took

a nap while you did this, would you?”

A chuckle met his question. “No, of course not. I’m

rather expecting you might. You probably haven’t slept

properly since this happened…” Sheridan looked over at his

face when he failed to even twitch in response. “But you’re

doing a fine job of it now.”

* * * * *

So little had changed at the University since the

government vanished she would never have noticed the

difference. It felt the same as it always had but for a few

distinct changes. Many of the students would never see home

again and this troubled the young woman. She was, unlike

them, fortunate as her home still remained up the road on the

shore of Lake Ramsey where it had always been. At least I still

have my family…

…Or I did until Dad died, and my sister devoted herself to

Dr. Robert Kaine, she thought as her lips curled and she crinkled

her brows.

Niala found herself at odds with her sister much of the

time now or, even worse, left to her own devices. She barely

noticed the difference as she was still a student and this meant

there was plenty of tasks to keep her busy in the labs with the

others.

Perhaps the biggest change was the inclusion of

everything close to the University into one larger community.

In turn this made the main office buildings more and more like

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39

the former City Hall every day. The Mayor of what was left of

Sudbury, and the survivors of the city police, had even taken

up residence.

Or, on second thought… my life is a mess now, she mused

as she let herself slide into a slouch. “A student? Ha, if so,

where?”

While it still felt more scholarly than City Hall the

addition of Valeria Piacentini into the council leading the

University altered everything. Their city within the city had

become the last of the city… period.

But, despite Mayor Piacentini being here it still seemed

Kaine led the University and the Mayor was little more than an

advisor. It was another upheaval of her life. Once more

everything had changed as if someone had tossed a coin in the

air just to see where it would land.

Niala turned and walked back up the stairs to the main

buildings to a stone balcony overlooking the lake. The view

here was spectacular and on a clear day she could see across

the lake, the other shore and even part of the city itself. But

instead of bringing her peace, the dark buildings beyond the

far shore only served to remind her of how her safe little world

had crumbled.

She wrapped the over-sized shawl around herself even

tighter. Although the first spring buds on the trees were now

opening into summer’s first full leaves the nights were still cool

enough for her breath to frost the air. Night did not bring the

same deadly chill but it was enough to make her shiver as the

last light of the sun sank below the grey mountain to the west.

Normally the stress of picking next year’s courses and

final exams would have driven the students into an uproar

leaving professors and teaching assistants scrambling to catch

up. Prospective students would have flooded the campus for

tours… with their parent’s cars crowding the parking lots.

But not this year.

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40

If my life hasn’t changed, then where are the cars? Where are

all the new students for next year—and their ‘rents’—for the campus

tours? Those same lots sat empty but for the few, now

abandoned, cars from those caught here during the winter.

Without the prospective students the entire campus drifted

without purpose as no one knew what to do about exams, or if

there was even a point.

After all, who would they report their results to but

themselves? There was no more governing body, no greater

college in which to send results. No financial institution for

those requiring loans or grants. All my years of striving… gone.

Wasted. And for what? Niala rubbed her arms as she stared

down the cliff. “Nothing! It was all for nothing!”

Her own voice rebounded back from the emptiness as

no answer came from the echoes.

The vacant city only punctuated her despair. Niala

drew her legs up as she hugged them against her chest and let

her head rest against her knees. She refused to cry but the cold

fingers of loneliness ignored her wishes by dragging the sobs

out of her.

Just one more reminder of how she was no longer in

control of her own destiny.

* * * * *

Marissa pushed herself off of the wall she was leaning

on when Sheridan came out of the examining room, pulling the

divider shut.

“How bad is it?” asked Terrence.

“He’s sleeping—and I’d rather he stays asleep for the

time being,” Sheridan answered, motioning for them to keep

their voices down. “It’s not nearly as bad as I thought.”

Marissa let out a sigh of relief. “Thank God.”

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41

“What exactly did happen out there?” asked Sheridan.

“More than we expected,” she answered. “Far more

than any of us…” She looked over at Terrence. “Except for him,

anyway—expected.”

Terrence snorted with laughter while Sheridan tried not

to smile. It was well known that Terrence, more than anyone,

always expected the worst. Sheridan turned to Marissa, after

glaring at her own husband. “I know you and Derek don’t

want to repeat yourselves but I need to know what happened

before anyone else. Only what would affect his health. Any

risks he took…”

Marissa looked up at the ceiling and then at Sheridan.

“Where would you like me to start?”

“Beginning.”

“Well, he did blow up the bridges at Lively with him

apparently not only still within the blast radius but also under

them.”

“He did what?!” exclaimed Sheridan and then she

winced, poking her head around the divider but Derek never

even twitched a muscle. “How is he… how did he even survive

that?”

Marissa shook her head. “Given the past six months I

am beginning to think he sat on something the last time your

farrier was through.”

Sheridan bit back a laugh. “You’d wonder.” With a sigh

she turned serious again. “Okay, is there anything else I should

know?”

“No, that’s pretty much it. Other than getting caught in

a rain storm up river from here on the way there, but he seemed

okay. No sign of the issues he had with pneumonia. We had a

few days of nothing but resting anyway, and then it was a

leisurely trip by river and lake to Naughton,” answered

Marissa. “No, the bridge was the straw. He decided to turn

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42

back after he healed up enough to move around and he wasn’t

in the mood to stick around.”

“We felt the blast from here,” mused Terrence. “I’d say

it was maybe a week and a few days at most. He wouldn’t have

had enough time to really recover.”

“Which means he’s going to be doing so now,” said

Sheridan.

“Why do I sense a rather large ‘but’ here?” asked

Marissa, lifting a brow.

Sheridan laid a hand on Marissa’s arm. “Oh, he’ll be up

and doing fine again afterwards. The trick will be keeping him

down long enough to heal,” Sheridan sighed. “I really wish Em

had come back with you. She's supposed to be my head nurse.

If she doesn’t come back, I’ll have to find another one for the

time being.”

Marissa paused for a second and then asked, “Gina said

you were the ‘Queen of Walden’ when we met her on the road.

When did this happen?”

Sheridan shook her head and smiled. “You were there

when it happened, or are you referring to the growth of our

territory?”

“The rather substantial and quick growth,” answered

Marissa.

“It was either that or let people starve. I didn’t think

they would run to us when we organized. I thought we’d

encounter more resistance but everyone so far—outside of

raiders—has rallied beneath our banner… So to speak,”

Sheridan looked at Marissa again. “Terrence is in his element.

Me… I’m not so sure but I will do what I can to keep everyone

safe, fed and properly cared for. I have been researching

possibilities and substitutes for many of our modern medicines

while you and the others were on the expedition. I can, to some

extent, replace and recreate the heavier prescriptions but,

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43

frankly, I don’t have a lab which means the method of

delivering said drugs will be a bit different.”

“I’m guessing you mean Derek gets to test this, right?”

asked Marissa.

“As in he probably won’t like how things taste or smell

for a while, yes,” she answered. “But if he grins and bears it life

will be a bit more comfortable. Even if we can scavenge for the

next few years, the problem is prescription medication has as

restrictive an expiration date as the herbals. Using them past

this date makes their effects unpredictable, or ineffective, at

best… deadly at worst. But, that’s not the point here. You need

me to tell you what my plan of action is for helping your

husband recover from this latest incident he involved himself

in.”

“You’re right about the scavenging issue,” said Marissa.

“But, yes, let’s talk about Derek.”

Sheridan looked over at Terrence and pointed to the

outer door leading to the main hall. “Ah, I guess this is where

I leave you two ladies to talk about things I’d rather not be in

on,” he realized, and Sheridan nodded.

Only after he left did Sheridan drop her arm and she

stared at Marissa for a moment.

“Derek’s damn lucky it wasn’t worse,” Sheridan said.

“First things first, the burns. They appear to be minor for the

most part, except for one spot on his neck which looks like a

second degree burn, but Marek did a great job of treating it.

The first degree burns are little more than serious sun burns,

with all the discomfort that implies. I raided my aloe and

chamomile stores to make a soothing cream to stretch out what

I already had on hand in the barn—sun burns are actually kind

of common here with the horses.”

Marissa let out a breath. “That’s not so bad.”

“It’s the second degree burn that we have to keep an eye

on. There’s a bit of blistering and, of course, the risk of

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44

infection. Marek…” Sheridan paused once aware of Marissa’s

puzzlement. She then continued, “Dr. Assad, sorry—did a

wonderful job of first response and then in treating him. Mind

you, Derek did mess it up a bit by choosing to leave Lively

before he was completely healed, but I’ve cleaned it up and he

should be fine. That’s not to say it won’t be painful—which

leads to my original problem of not having the same resources

for either keeping it free of infection or for pain management.”

“I’m sure you’ll do the best you can for him,” pointed

out Marissa.

Sheridan nodded and before looking Marissa in the

eyes. “As well, and as much, as I can.”

“So, what else aren’t you telling me?” asked Marissa.

“Well, that’s the surface, literally. He has some

movement in his ribs where he shouldn’t, and rigidity where

he also shouldn’t. This tells me he has a broken rib—or at least

a cracked one—and he also has some internal injuries,”

answered Sheridan. “I also noticed hearing damage to one side

and I suspect he’s deaf in his left ear now. There’s a bit of

bruising on and around his head, neck and back—which with

what you’ve told me is consistent with what he survived—but

it also tells me he has a concussion and some bruising, as well

as joint and cartilage injuries. I’m trying to figure out how in

the hell he managed to climb onto the back of a horse and then

ride back here like that.”

“He wanted to be someplace a bit more familiar and

comfortable was his explanation. I don’t blame him and I

wasn’t about to let him head back here on his own.”

“Well, at least he waited until he was a bit better. I get

the feeling he was in worse shape before he decided to travel

back here,” mused Sheridan.

“He was,” agreed Marissa.

Sheridan sighed and then stretched her arms.

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45

“Well, here’s the plan. He needs to just rest,” began

Sheridan, as she listed each condition on one of her fingers.

“He can move around all he wants inside the house. I’d rather

him not risk the stairs more than he has to—so I am strongly

recommending he stay upstairs. There’s the library up there

too, if he gets bored of your rooms. No heavy lifting—and no

riding until I feel better about what’s going on inside him.”

Kristan Cannon

46

CHAPTER FOUR

The minute Derek rolled over onto his back he instantly

regretted it. It felt like someone had just raked him over with

hot coals and then left them on his back. Rolling back onto his

side he tried to catch his breath.

“Easy,” came Sheridan’s voice from somewhere behind

him, and he felt her catch him and roll him back onto his right

side where it did not hurt nearly as much as laying on his left,

or his back. “I’d imagine breathing, and laying on your back,

is probably painful now you’ve had a chance to let everything

catch up with you.”

“You have no idea,” he answered, closing his eyes again

and letting his head sink into the pillows under his head. “I

think I hurt worse than I did when I first crawled out from

under that damn bridge.”

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47

He could almost hear Sheridan’s eyebrows rising and

the question forming in her mind. “Dare I ask?”

“You don’t want to,” he chuckled, finally managing to

convince his own body to move and let him sit up.

Sheridan moved around to the side of the cot so he did

not have to twist himself around, moving her chair with her as

she did, to sit on it backwards using the back of the chair to

lean her arms on while she talked to him.

“But I have to, if I’m to make sure you recover from this

properly,” she answered. “The question is; do you want to

know what I’ve discovered?”

“No, but I’m going to need to know anyway.”

“Well, you have internal injuries. What exactly I can’t

tell without some sort of scanner—which unfortunately I don’t

have out here outside of what Karen has to work with in the

barn for the horses,” she answered thoughtfully. “Which, all

things considered—vet use or not—is still better than nothing.”

Derek turned slightly and asked, curiously, “What does

she have out there?”

“An ultrasound,” answered Sheridan. “Minor

procedural suite. Nothing like what you’re picturing. But a bit

fancier than what would be in the typical barn. She ran her

practise out of the main barn. For more intensive surgeries she

had to use the suite in Chelmsford.”

“But enough to check me out, right?” he asked. “That’s

basically what you’re saying.”

She nodded. “It would at least give us an idea of what

we’re looking at. However…” She paused again and then took

a breath. “You have a cracked rib very close to where those

injuries are. Given the nature of an ultrasound it means, at best,

it will be extremely painful. At worst we could do more

damage if the rib shifts wrong.”

He sighed, and winced. She was right. His ribs were

sore but he never realized they could be broken. In retrospect

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48

he really should have—and with this little piece of knowledge

he also knew he should have never even attempted to ride back

here from Lively until Dr. Assad had been thoroughly satisfied

with his recovery. Lively did have the facilities in the clinic to

treat more complex cases, including an x-ray and ultrasound

meant for humans.

Granted, without electricity they were useless.

Another sigh escaped him. “What can you do without

resorting to it?”

“Plenty,” she admitted. “But those are intrusive. More

so than when you had pneumonia. I will have to monitor your

output, and your input, very closely and also monitor how well

the rigidity fades… and you will be well aware of everything

unlike when you were half out of it with fever. You will also

need to rest and I’m going to limit your mobility to the upper

floor, if you want to stay in your own room. If you’d rather

have access to down here, then you will also be sleeping down

here.”

“And my burns?” he asked.

“Surprisingly minor but I will have to regularly change

your bandages and watch for infection. Most of it is no worse

than a severe sunburn—complete with the same discomfort.

One patch is nearly second degree but with further

examination is still only first degree… barely,” she answered.

“Treatment will be the same. Cooling ointment to alleviate

pain and discomfort, and to prevent infection, peeling and

scarring.” Sheridan tilted her head to the side. “It was my

understanding the explosion you were caught in did not have

very much in the way of pyrotechnics. I am curious to know

where the burns came from.”

“There were a few cars nearby,” he answered blithely.

“A few?” she mused. “In a time where gas and oil are

scarce, if not non-existent, and you happen to find a few cars

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49

with just enough gas in them to actually explode. So, the

question you so neatly avoided; upstairs or downstairs?”

Derek sighed. Once Sheridan was in her ‘doctor’ mode

she was like a bloodhound when it came to answers. She would

only be satisfied once they had settled on a plan and then some

way to follow through. She took her duty as chief medical

practitioner dead seriously. This was a good thing, if he were

honest, even if it meant she would likely be butting into his

privacy far more than he would like.

With a sigh he decided, and then answered, “Upstairs.

If I have to do this I’d rather it be in the comfortable bed you

have in Marissa and I’s room.”

She grinned. “I rather suspected as much.”

“How long will I be stuck upstairs?” he asked, dreading

her answer but having a distinct feeling it would be far longer

than he really wanted.

“Well, a few weeks, give or take…”

He felt his mouth drop open. “Weeks?” he asked, his

voice rising in shock and dismay. “Not days, or it could be a

week but after I can start moving around inside the house…

but hey, at least I could come downstairs every so often?”

She shook her head. “Much as I know you will go

probably go bonkers and start climbing walls up there it’s…

well… I have some serious concerns and having you not move

around as much as possible will help you heal without further

complication.”

“Like what?” he asked.

Her pointed stare was more an answer but he knew,

especially since she was a surgeon on top of being a general

practitioner, she would be quite explicit in her forthcoming

explanation.

“Honestly?” she asked as she leaned back, crossing her

arms in a gesture he’d come to recognize as one of thought

before looking at him again. “I highly suspect, given the degree

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50

of burns and what I am feeling—and where it is located—you

have a splenic rupture, which is a serious problem. It can heal

on its own but only if we’re damn careful. However, there is a

good chance that it may have to be treated with surgery and if

that’s the case… well… the risks to performing a surgery are

very high considering our present situation. The best way to

avoid it would be to rest and let your body heal. Move around

just enough to prevent losing muscle mass and integrity, but—

until I’m satisfied with your progress—the best thing is full bed

rest for a full week, perhaps even two.”

“Okay, you lost me at ‘surgery’,” he admitted, and he

let this sink in. “I think you’ve scared me enough into staying

at least near a bed. How in hell… if it came to that point…

would you even be able to perform a surgery here?”

She licked her lips and stared at him. Derek suddenly

realized why she was letting him come to his own conclusion.

The first problem was everything in Karen’s vet suite was

meant for horses and not humans. The second problem was, if

surgery was needed, would be finding a large enough supply

of fluids—either by way of blood or its surgical substitute—to

keep him from going into shock from blood loss during the

surgery. This was only the tip of the iceberg in problems. They

also had to think about chances of infection, pain

management…

“Oh.”

Sheridan nodded at his realization. “Yeah, oh would

sum it up.”

“You’re a brilliant surgeon—” he began, then broke off

again. “What about a MASH unit like on TV? It’s not

completely impossible. Hopefully you won’t have to on me but

on the subject of surgery eventually there will come a time

when you may have to on someone else…”

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“I run into the problem of reliable anaesthesia and a

qualified anaesthesiologist. Yes, while Karen is also qualified

to do it in a pinch, as is Emilie, every time we remove a

specialist or something out of the equation the iffier the

situation becomes. The risks begin to spiral out of control,” she

answered, and then shrugged. “If push came to shove and a

situation was ‘do or the patient would die without’ I’d attempt

it and fight my hardest for them but realistically—while no

situation is ideal when it comes to surgery of any kind—their

chances would not be great. Better than if I did not, yes, but not

great. Even if they pulled through the risk of infection—even if

everything was perfectly clean we are basically sticking

something inside of them and exposing their internal structure

to the open air—is far greater and we also do not have the same

access to immune boosting drugs or antibiotics.”

“Which is why you’re not keen to risk it with me,” he

realized. “Unless all else fails. But if we’re careful, as you said,

you minimize having to risk it.”

She nodded. “Precisely.”

“All right,” he nodded as he lay on his side again—the

least injured side. “I don’t want to put you in that position of

having to risk it so we’ll do it your way.”

With a grin, Sheridan patted his knee. “Glad you saw it

my way.”

“Oh, it wasn’t only you—more Reese stringing me up

by my toenails over our balcony if I didn’t.”

* * * * *

While others would always maintain the best place to

realise see the personality behind a person was in their

bathroom—or bedroom—Aidan had always seen someone’s

true colours in their kitchen. In most cultures, the kitchen was

the centre of the home and, therefore, the heart of the family.

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52

Seeing the kitchen drove home the impression of this

family living the principle in everything they breathed, ate and

drank.

It was central to the open concept great room. When he

looked up he realised the great room was open to the second

floor breezeway.

This space was the home’s real heart and real centre. It

was warm, inviting and organic. No detail had been spared in

its design but at the same time it was sleek and easy to

navigate.

Meant for someone who spent a great deal of time here

both cooking and entertaining.

He instantly felt more at home here than he had in his

own apartment.

Naturally, a house matriarch still ruled the Manor but

he had no problem negotiating with the older lady—nor even

acting as her second when she put him to work. “It’ll be nice

to have someone in here who knows what they’re doing and

like it,” said Lorraine as she walked him through the pantry

and kitchen. “Unfortunately, much of the function was lost

when the main power went out, but we’ve managed to work

around it. This was the main kitchen but now it’s more or less

the winter kitchen with the summer one out on the deck.”

“What do you use to cook?” He asked. “I don’t see a

natural gas stove.”

“Sheridan was never a fan of them. Neither am I,

really,” answered Lorraine. “I don’t like her choice either, but

I lived with it. Granted, since we got the solar panels on the

roof working the electric stove works well. We just have to

watch how much we use and when we use it. Can’t run too

much at once, either. Twice a day we cycle through everything

so we have hot water, power to cook and keep the fridges and

freezers cold and doing their job. Otherwise, we use the hearth

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over there for anything needing to be slow-cooked or, even,

one of the pits outside. Terrence loves a good old-fashioned

barbecue, but, again, Sheridan was afraid he’d end up doing

something stupid and blowing himself up so she had a stone

pit built using firewood or wood embers, charcoal, that sort of

thing.”

Aidan snorted in amusement. “They like things on the

old-fashioned side. I saw the armour—and the house gives it

away.”

“They were part of this club which explored the history

of the middle ages—right up to and including living the part,”

replied Lorraine. “You should see some of the dresses she

made when she first started. She won a few awards for them –

I think. Dunno, never followed it closely. I lived through my

own time and never really wanted to see it return. But, lo and

behold, I’m right back to my girlhood! She made the tapestry

on the wall, too.”

Aidan looked back over to the tapestry that had caught

his attention when he first walked into the house. “She made

that?” He asked as he inspected the embroidery.

“By hand,” confirmed Lorraine. “Took her a few years

and she’s still not done with it. Occasionally, she’ll fill in a

detail here and there. Outside of reading, it’s her way of

relaxing.”

The precise stitching was exactly what he’d expected

from a surgeon but the artistry surprised him. “What will she

do for thread now?”

Lorraine sighed. “I don’t know, actually. Same as

everything else, I guess. We’ll have to figure it out or scavenge

it.”

Francis walked into the room and nodded at Lorraine

before turning to Aidan. “Hey, kid, you want to stay here or

do you want to see some more of the great Canadian

wilderness by truck?”

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54

He looked up sharply. “Why would I want to do that?”

Francis shrugged. “I don’t know. Sheridan asked me

to go with Derek, and anyone else he’s picked, to a place called

High Falls. You’re invited if you want to go.”

Aidan grinned. “You mean you could use my cooking

skills so you don’t have to eat the crap you call cooking.”

“Well,” Francis thought for a moment. “There’s that,

but you also have a fair hand in surviving in the wilderness

with the kit I saw in your stuff. So?”

Lorraine chuckled. “Go on, if you want to, the kitchen’s

not going anywhere.”

With a nod, Aidan said, “Let me pack what I need.”

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CHAPTER FIVE

All those people… the young reservist knew with spring

rapidly giving way to early summer the stench of death in the

core of the city would permeate the air. Just behind him stood

Colonel Harnet and he claimed it once ousted from City Hall.

Instead of allowing the reservists to continue searching for

survivors and helping them he had ordered them to abandon

the rest of the city and concentrate on their own survival. It

doesn’t seem right. We should’ve done what we could.

“It looks like this may become another swamp,”

pointed out one of the local reservists as she stared at the

sluggish water behind the armoury. “Junction Creek runs

under City Hall, and the downtown core. If anything happened

to the infrastructure above, it’s now dammed up and likely

turning the whole area into a small lake.”

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56

Harnet sighed and the reservist suspected the Colonel

knew why the creek no longer followed its old path. No doubt

this caused the Mayor and her people to finally abandon City Hall,

mused the reservist. He could see the ruins without going far

from the armoury. “Perhaps once it breaks the limits of the

rubble it will flow back this way, but it could take years,”

Harnet said as he ran a hand through his hair. “Enough of this.

I am returning to our base.”

“You don’t want me to take care of the blockage?” asked

the young reservist, confused.

“Leave it,” he answered. “You have more important

things to worry about than fixing something which will fix

itself given enough time.”

“Yes sir,” the younger man saluted as Harnet turned

and walked away.

Once Harnet was out of sight he turned to the other

reservists as they walked up to him. “I take it he doesn’t give a

shit what happens to the creek?” she asked.

“Not one bit,” he answered. “Told us to leave it and said

we have more important things to worry about. Unfortunately,

I have no idea what he means.”

The other two looked at each other in confusion before

turning to their friend. “Odd,” said the second one. “We don’t

actually have anything else to watch. Whatever the issue was

downtown has settled. We have the resources to roll in, take

care of the dam blocking it up and restore the creek back to its

original path. It wouldn’t take long either.”

The first reservist shook his head. Why am I not surprised?

he thought. First it’s ordering us to kill the Mayor. Then he had us

abandon the survivors. And now this… “Remember that radio

conversation with ‘Kaine’?” he asked.

“Yeah, it was odd—unfriendly… and weird,” she

answered. “Got the feeling there’s some serious history there,

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especially since it was the Colonel who cut him off. I take it

there’s been no attempt by either side to come to some sort of

an agreement?”

He shook his head as he sat down on the bench. “I’d

give anything for things to just go back to normal.”

His partner remained quiet as she looked away and

over to the quiet downtown core. “I miss my family,” said the

third finally, and the first reservist sighed and kicked a rock

near his foot.

“I do, too,” he admitted.

* * * * *

What the three young reservists conjectured hardly

concerned Colonel Harnet so long as they continued to

follow his lead and guard what he told them to guard. So far

they did just as he ordered but he could tell the locals were

growing a bit restless and suspicious of him, his motives and

perhaps his authority.

This was truly regrettable as if he had to kill them to

make an example of what would happen when they

disobeyed—his grip on anyone else local would erode.

If only they followed his lead as easily as those he

brought with him.

As the truck rolled into the hospital parking lot, he

spared a glance down the hill into the wetlands below, and

beyond them the other, and much newer, hospital. Past this far

bigger facility lay an even better prize but Kaine, another

retired Colonel like he was, held it and he had the support of

the legally voted in Mayor of Sudbury.

He needed to somehow erode this grip—or win some

ground. “Lieutenant,” he called as he looked across the marsh

down in the valley.

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58

“Yes sir?” asked one of his trusted circle as he walked

up.

“Any sign of activity down there?” he asked.

“Not any more than when you were last here,” came an

answer, surprisingly from a completely different person.

Harnet turned to the other man in all of Sudbury to bear

the name ‘Kaine’, and perhaps the only other who could

understand Dr. Kaine. Or, at least guess his next move since

the two were brothers even if an entire world and way of

thinking apart. Dr. Robert Kaine was a scientist and a man of

science. Logic and reason were his weapons and he used them

well.

On the other hand, his brother was a man of faith—as

was a few others in the area as well as his own people—but

sometimes logic failed in regards to this particular branch.

Actually, come to think of it, logic usually did fail.

Harnet sighed at this. It was not as if he did not have his own

faith, as he did, but sometimes the more fundamental churches

left even him baffled.

So it was with this Kaine, his religion and skewed view

of the world.

Harnet found him more than a little frustrating to deal

with and it brought to mind something his father always said

regarding the fanatical type. The only thing predictable was

just how unpredictable they could be.

“And to what do I owe the pleasure of this visit?” asked

Harnet, his voice barely hiding his distaste for Jason Kaine.

Jason looked down on the hospital below and asked,

“The fact you ask if there was any sign of activity tells me you

are considering an attempt to take the hospital by force. I

strongly suggest against it—too many good lives would be lost

for no good reason.”

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“Dare I ask what you would suggest instead?” asked

Harnet.

“Sometimes negotiations are called for,” answered

Jason. “And, given the circumstances and the death already

brought upon us in these trying times I think the Lord would

prefer you preserved what few remain on his green Earth.”

“And if that fails?” asked Harnet. “Shall I turn the other

cheek and hope one day they will let me in?”

“If that is how it should be, then yes,” answered Jason,

ignoring the sarcasm or the laughter from behind him from

Harnet’s people. “Perhaps, in time, they will come around and

realize the error of their own ways—in time they, too, will

realize we are all in this together.”

With a heavy sigh of long suffering, Harnet asked, “Did

it ever occur to you that’s exactly what I’m trying to achieve?

And these ‘lost sheep’ are naught but wolves in sheep’s

clothing preventing your innocent children, your ‘Lord’s

flock’, from getting the help they need?”

Kaine drew himself up to his full height which was not

equal to Harnet’s height—and he was by no means a tall man

either —and suddenly realized he might have just pushed the

man too far.

“I have seen no such thing to support your claim. If

anything all I have seen is your own barbarism in some

misguided effort to take what the Lord never gave you to take

in the first place. Remember, in the same way Eve was led

astray by the same forbidden…”

Jason Kaine found himself knocked backward and onto

the ground to wipe away a small trail of blood from his nose

and chin. The sudden shock of pain and the blood now on his

hands made him dizzy but he was alert enough to watch

Harnet continue to whirl around—not even seeming to notice

the blood on his knuckles—on him to hiss, “Mind your words,

preacher, because not everyone here wants to hear your drivel

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60

and if you push me I don’t care how useful you are in regards

to your brother I will throw you off the cliff into the wetlands

below for the dogs to rip apart. Do I make myself clear?”

Jason nodded wordlessly and, hearing this last,

suddenly realized the real reason he had been kept alive.

His damned fool brother would be mixed up in this.

* * * * *

The survivors beneath the bridge built their ramshackle

town out of bits of scrap from ruined houses and what camping

equipment they could find. Any finer details passed through

his mind but failed to sink in as David ran. He caught the

screams of children and others and he spun towards the din.

The raiders did not have guns but instead used

scavenged bits from the ruins of houses and cars.

Anything sharp, or with enough weight to do

damage… or even both… fit.

David heard the thunder snap of Russell firing his rifle

from the bridge above. The dull wet thud of a bullet sinking

into flesh made him wince. He had heard it before but it was

something he never could get used to. Not that he wanted to—

it reminded him he was still human.

“Guns!” yelled one of the raiders.

“Find the shooter! Overpower the bastard and then

we’ll have the guns!” came the shouted order from in the

shanties and to his left.

David veered left and jumped back but strips fell off of

what he wore over his armour from the raider’s blade. “You’ve

got a gun, too,” said the raider as he grinned.

“And there’s no cruiser and lock-up to take you to,”

pointed out David.

The raider smirked. “I thought I smelled bacon.”

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Breathing through his nose he pinned the raider to the

wall with one arm, his sidearm digging into the raider’s rib

cage. “You’re the pig here, raider, and I’m not letting you past

me.”

The raider twisted in his grip. David felt the slight

waffle of air as the blade arced down mere inches by his hand.

Without hesitation he tackled the raider. They crashed

through the side of the precarious shack leaning against the

concrete supports. Dust and bits of wood rained down on

them. David deflected a punch but failed to prevent a knee to

his side. With a grunt, he tangled the raider’s arm to prevent

him from continuing to swing the blade and his gun slipped

out of his hand.

Cold fear threaded through David’s body. He

remembered it being in his hand before he tackled the raider

and with a glance he saw it not too far away.

Unfortunately, he was not the only one to spot it.

Another raider picked it up tried to aim it at him. The

tussle between him and the raider was not giving the other a

clear line to David.

The raider twisted in his grip again and rolled

underneath him. David held his breath. When he heard a gun

fire he braced himself and hoped his own armour would take

the specialized ammunition from his own gun.

The impact never came, but, as he managed to wrestle

the raider over, in the corner of his eye, he saw why.

Adrienne stood over the second raider.

When did you catch up to me? he wondered. While David

used his own body weight to hold the leader of the raiding

party Adrienne found a short length of rope and a few zip ties

to tie him up. Adrienne pointed at the raider and said, “Don’t

even think about moving from this spot.”

While gagged there was not much he could do but

scream through the gag.

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62

David and Adrienne stepped back through the hole,

and he retrieved his sidearm from the dead raider outside as

he looked around.

There was still fighting going on all around them. With

the main leader of the raiders taken out the others seemed less

organized but no less determined to take what was in the town.

“You see Russell?” asked Adrienne.

“No, was a little busy,” he answered.

Gunshots from a hunting rifle up near the top of the

bridge crackled overhead again, as did shouts. “I think I know

where he is,” said David and he turned in a full circle to get his

bearings.

The two moved up to the supports of the bridge where

David thought Russell was as he raiders retreated back into the

city where they came from. Bodies of raiders littered the

ground. Thank God, thought David. Doesn’t appear to be any of

the civilians among the dead.

Russell climbed down and stopped, surprised to see

them. “Are you all right?” he asked, noting the blood on

David’s face.

“I’m fine,” he answered, and he clapped Adrienne’s

shoulder. “Thanks to her. I’d be dead if she hadn’t caught up

to me when she did.”