After Oil

  PRAISE FOR AFTER OIL

  “Beautifully written.”

  —TDC Book reviews

  “… like all good books it leaves you wanting more.”

  —Karen’s Book Buzz

  “… the descriptions of scenery were superb. I've never been to Canada, but I can probably navigate Sudbury…”

  —Common Book Sense

  “… no trouble getting into the story…”

  —Paperback Darling

  “Strongly written book… strong characters.”

  —Amy Shannon Book Reviews

  Also by Kristan Cannon

  The Kingdom of Walden Series

  After Oil

  The Last Iron Horse

  Between Silence and Fire (August 2016)

  Ghostwalker (Forthcoming)

  AFTER OIL

  KRISTAN CANNON

  After Oil 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 2014

  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 by Lightning Source and distributed by IngramSpark.

  Anime North Pre-Release Edition May 2014 – Independently Published

  First Edition July 2014 – KCEditions

  Second Edition June 2015 - KCEditions

  www.kceditions.com

  www.kristancannon.com

  Library and Archives Canada Cataloguing in Publication

  Cannon, Kristan, 1980-, author

  After oil / Kristan Cannon.

  Issued in print and electronic formats.

  ISBN 978-0-9937603-0-3 (bound)

  --ISBN 978-0-9937603-2-7 (pbk.)

  --ISBN 978-0-9937603-1-0 (html)

  I. Title.

  PS8605.A5753A64 2014

  C813'.6

  C2014-904999-4

  C2014-905000-3

  For Grampa, for always pushing me to follow my dreams.

  AFTER OIL

  KRISTAN CANNON

  There is no such thing as a sudden ending.

  Even the most out of the blue catastrophe has enough clues and warning signs, if and when people bother to notice. The problem is no one wants to change, so any gigantic flashing signs advising, ‘Either reverse your course now or fall over that edge!’ are always flatly ignored.

  Until the revolution is finally forced down their throats. Of course, by then it’s too late.

  The skiff is too far into the rapids and the waterfall now looms, waiting for its next victim to tumble over the edge.

  All you can do is hang on and hope to survive.

  I know this from experience—up until that one, fateful, winter, my life was as normal as the next. I had what I wanted and needed and perhaps a bit more…

  … And then it all changed.

  —From the diary of the First Regent of Walden

  CHAPTER ONE

  Green grass when you go to bed, mused Marissa as she ambled by the front window of her home, shaking her head at the sight of her neighbour holding his shattered shovel in his hands and glowering at his driveway. And then so much snowfall the next morning your shovel breaks…

  … And someone always assumes those cheap plastic rigs from the local discount store are enough, Marissa lifted a brow as she continued to sip her coffee. Apparently he just found out otherwise.

  As she gazed out into the yard, she marvelled at thick white blanket covering everything. Movement in her own driveway caught her eye and she realized it was her husband clearing it with nothing more than a shovel.

  She opened the window and ducked her head out. “Derek, what the hell are you doing?”

  He mumbled under his breath and chose to not actually answer with something she could hear. Marissa shook her head and then ducked back inside the house, shaking the snow out of her shirt as she continued to watch him.

  Derek heaved a heavy, and visible, sigh and then resumed clearing the snow from their driveway. Marissa knew their idea to spend their holiday at Sheridan’s was in peril unless he managed to first free his ageing Toyota SUV from the driveway.

  Still, why he was not using his snow blower—something that would have made short work of their driveway—was a conundrum.

  Finally, he managed to dig his truck free and he planted the shovel blade first into the snow and used the handle to rest on.

  Derek and Marissa Moss’s driveway was at least now clear. But looking around, she could see that the street was still covered in snow. It was not as if Derek had to dig through a hardened snowbank. The street did not look like it had been touched by a snow plow for days.

  That would have been at least amusing, if annoying.

  To Derek, at least.

  I’d hear about it all the way to Whitefish, she thought, as she turned away from the window and picked up her phone. Which reminds me…

  Digging through a hardened snow bank left by a plow was almost a rite of passage anywhere in Northern Ontario. Sudbury had certainly never been any different.

  Had Derek had to cut through it Marissa knew he would tell Sheridan and her grandmother Lorraine. Once they got out there he would use it as an excuse for Lorraine to make him her specialty hot cocoas—a drink that had more than just mere cocoa in it for added ‘warmth’.

  But that was hardly her worry right now…

  …The puzzle was that there was no snow bank at all for Derek to dig through to get to the street.

  * * * * *

  While he waited for Corporal Montgomery to come back from the military truck with his clearances, Garrett Wither paced in front of his truck. It was taking too long and every hour meant more snow fell.

  He was more than a bit worried that the advantage of the four by four truck would be nullified on the back road to High Falls. It was no more than a dirt road meant to bridge the gap between the mines and was dangerous enough on a good day.

  However, the dam was the primary supply of power for the region and also fed half the eastern sea board's power grid. It was vital that it remain operational. Unfortunately, he was one of the few qualified enough in the region to keep it up and running.

  If he was kept waiting any longer, the issue of clearance for whatever the damned military was up to now would be a moot point.

  The snow would simply make the passage up to High Falls impossible.

  He just wanted to get up to the power station, get what he needed to be done... make sure the poor buggers at said station had what they needed... and get down to Shiloh and Sheridan's for the holidays. Worthington and High Falls were just to the North of their farm.

  It’s at that point that I’m past hoping the trip back down here will be easy, he thought. But that by the time I’m done up there that it’s even still possible.

  Garrett watched Montgomery come back. “Well?” asked Garrett.

  “Command has the clearance,” answered Montgomery as he handed the packet over to him. “Might not want to go back through town, though.”

  Garrett took a breath and asked, “Not that I was, but why not?”

  “What the boy is trying to say is that for the time being there is a live action exercise and it’s above his pay grade to say anything,” came another voice, one that belonged to a woman with enough stripes on her shoulder and lapel that Montgomery immediately saluted upon sight of her.

  “In Sudbury?” he asked.

  “Yes, in Sudbury,” she answered. “Travel has been cut off to the south because of the snow. You’ll have to tra
vel all the way around through the main part of Sudbury. I can tell you the Colonel would have a bird if an unnecessary civilian wandered into the middle of the main part of his exercise. Where are you going?”

  “High Falls,” answered Garrett.

  “I’d suggest up through Hanmer, but the roads are probably not any better,” piped up Montgomery.

  “I have a four by four truck, and if need be I can get out the chains,” answered Garrett patiently, although this patience was beginning to wear thin. “I’ll get where I’m going for tonight, even if the drive isn’t easy. I won’t push it.”

  “And then what?”

  “When the weather improves, I’ll head down to my daughter’s place,” he answered. “I won’t have to come all the way back here. She’s not that far from High Falls.”

  Garrett climbed back into the grey GMC four by four, dusting off his seat as he did so. It was a pointless exercise as the very nature of his work meant the new truck would soon look as beat up as the older ones in a few short weeks.

  The snow fell in large flakes, and his headlights did little to dispel the predawn murk. Even as the sun rose, the thick clouds above blocked the warmth from reaching them.

  The back roads are going to be lonelier than this, he thought, resigned already to being stuck up at the remote dam for a day or so.

  * * * * *

  The farm was in a small town clear on the other side of Sudbury. It was so far out the four-lane highway along Highway 17 heading west out of the city ended.

  This morning Dr. Sheridan Wither-Scapael wished she lived closer to the city where the roads were plowed more frequently.

  Sheridan looked out the window, and her mouth fell open. Two feelings warred within. The first shock, and the other a quick strike of frustration as she watched her husband, Terrence Scapael, awkwardly balance his phone between his shoulder and ear.

  Normally, this was not a problem.

  He always had held his phone, whether cell phone or land line, that way to free up his hands for work or other chores. He was a civil engineer, and so out of necessity he constantly had to remain in contact with his colleagues or others while still using a computer or handling plans.

  However, today he was driving the ATV with a plow attachment, and not sitting safely at his desk.

  “Stupid idiot,” she muttered as she strode outside and watched her husband as he cleared the driveway while shaking her head.

  “That’s what I said to Sheri this morning.” He flipped the phone over to the other shoulder and lowered the blade of the plow again as he prepared to take another swipe at the snow down the drive. “If it keeps snowing this much, we’ll be digging out clear through June.” He paused to listen to the other person, again switching which shoulder the phone rested on. “All right, maybe not that long but the point still stands. One of these days I swear I’m moving to someplace without snow.”

  Terrence looked up and over at her, waving, and ignored her slight frown. “Are you and Marissa still coming over for New Year’s?” he asked. “Great, I’ll tell Sheri to expect you. Later.”

  He hung up the phone and slid it into a pocket as he drove the four-wheeled bike up to the front steps. He saw his wife and stopped. “What?” he asked.

  “You do know what you’re doing is illegal now?” She stood there with her hands on her hips, glowering at him. “And for damn good reason.”

  Terrence gaped at her and asked, “What is?”

  “Where do I start?” she questioned aloud. “First, lack of a helmet. Second, distracted driving—and while limiting the movement of your head by holding your cell and using the position of your neck to your shoulder which therefore ruins your ability to look around, which is something very important when it comes to driving.”

  “Relax, Sheri, it’s only our driveway.”

  “More than eighty percent of accidents happen in the home or within the closest few kilometres,” she snapped. “And I’ve seen enough of the worst which can happen to last a lifetime. Please don't invite it to my front door.”

  With a sigh, Terrence had to admit to himself that if anyone would know it would definitely be her. Sheridan finally sighed at his sudden ‘lost puppy’ look and she then asked, “When are they getting here?”

  “Derek said he had to pick up a few things so he wouldn’t be coming empty handed. But he did say he and Marissa should be here sometime tonight,” answered Terrence as he swung his legs over the side of the bike while still sitting on it. “S’good thing too. I think one of the panels in the north field is on the blink again. Maybe he and your Uncle can see what’s up and perhaps get our field back up to normal operations.”

  “Like you can’t do that either.”

  Terrence chuckled. “Are you still planning on heading into Sudbury?” he asked.

  “I expect so—I have to buy groceries if we’re going to have a house full over the holidays.”

  “Could you grab some beer while you’re there?” he enquired, even though he knew she was probably overloaded with preparations for the influx of guests over the holidays.

  “Why don’t you come with me and help me with all this?” she asked with a sigh. “And when was the last time you’ve been to town to get your Metformin and testing strips? If you came with me, we could do both.”

  “Still have to plow the back drive and then do the same over at Shiloh’s,” he replied, and Sheridan bit back the reply she had for ignoring her other question. “I’ll go later. Grab your uncle or your Dad.”

  “Uncle Russell is helping Shiloh in the barn before he heads back to Toronto, and Dad isn't even here yet,” she added. “Russell and I will likely head out at the same time and split off at Lively.”

  “Where's Nathan?”

  “He’s also in the barn.”

  “Jeremy?”

  “Helping Shiloh.”

  “Is everyone in the barn?” asked Terrence in surprise.

  “None of the regular hands showed up today,” she answered. “Some of them didn’t bother to answer me while the others said it was too far and they had to stick around their own barns. I’m not surprised because of the weather, I’m annoyed that some of them didn’t deign to answer their phones, but I get it.”

  Terrence grunted in concern. “If I had my rathers, you wouldn’t be going out there either.”

  “I’m only going as far as Lively,” she answered dryly. “Not even all the way into Sudbury. I asked Marissa to grab some things on their way through from Garson.”

  * * * * *

  “You are actually going home sometime today, aren’t you?” asked Victoria Piacentini as she walked out of the elevator and towards her car.

  Daniel lifted a brow as he had to push himself to keep up. Despite being in two-inch-high heels—even if those heels were on the chunkier side and not stilettos—Victoria had a few inches of height on him.

  Granted, there were not too many people who were not. Daniel Wither was on the shorter side of average, and the nearly five-foot-ten Victoria was at least a few inches taller than he was.

  Her heels made the difference that much more pronounced.

  “Home, no, but to my daughter’s and son in law’s, yes,” answered Daniel, shaking his head at her brisk pace. “My daughter has a huge holiday week planned for those who want to show up. I think she’d have plenty for dinner or to drink if you went out to see them.”

  “Thanks for the invite, and I’d love to see Sheri again, but I have plans as well—so long as I can get there first,” she answered as she rummaged around in her purse. “Blasted keys. Why are they always at the bottom of my purse?”

  Daniel tilted his head. He leaned against the heavy cement support and watched as a few other uniformed officers began to drive out, leaving for the day or just out on patrol.

  “Merry Christmas, Dan!” shouted one of the local police officers. “Looks like more snow. Might want to get out of here while you still can. You too, Madam Mayor.”

  Victoria waved
in reply. Daniel gave a half wave as the other police officer drove by them.

  When he was gone, Daniel turned back to Victoria as she continued to search her purse for her keys.

  “Maybe if you had a smaller purse you’d find them faster,” he suggested.

  Victoria looked over at Daniel while lifting a brow. “Are you trying to tell me my purse is too big?”

  “I’d never presume to—” he was cut off as one of her assistants from her office ran over to them.

  “Oh no, I am officially on holidays,” began Victoria.

  The assistant stopped, bending over to catch his breath before he stood back up. “I’m sorry, Ms. Piacentini, but there’s this Colonel from the Armed Forces insisting on talking to you. He said it was urgent and important.”

  “Always is,” mused Victoria. She sighed and gave up her search for her keys. “Knowing my luck I left my car keys up in my office anyway.”

  Daniel snorted and lifted a brow. “You wouldn’t be the only person alive to leave their keys on their desk.”

  “I didn’t see them,” offered her assistant.

  “All right, since I have to go back upstairs anyway you way as well arrange for him to meet me in my office. Have him wait in—” began Victoria.

  “He’s already waiting in your office,” answered her assistant. “I’m really sorry, ma’am, but he barged in.”

  Victoria sighed heavily as she brought a hand up to pinch her nose. “Dan, I know you’re on your way out too, but I would really appreciate it if you could be there with me for this.”

  “Why do you need me?” asked Daniel. “You’re more than able to tear a strip off of someone on your own.”

  “Yes, that’s my point,” she answered. “I think I’ll need you to keep me from tearing too much of a strip off a pompous arse who thinks he can throw his weight around.”