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

by Friesen, Jamie

  “Actually, our plan is simple. We’ve located a warehouse full of sports equipment. Troops will be armored with a variety of protective equipment, including helmets, pads and body armour. A light chain mail shirt and leggings will further enhance personal protection. Weapons will be made from materials on the base in the machine shop. They won’t be firearms but rather medieval style weapons, such as maces, short swords and crossbows,” stated Lieutenant Colonel Burkhart, as he pointed to each piece of equipment.

  “My God! You want to turn them into Road Warrior rejects and send them out against those monsters?!?” Councillor Tkachuk shouted.

  “Calm down Keith! Maces, General? Why not equip them with rifles like the rest of the troops?” Mayor Johnston said calmly as he shot a dirty look at Councillor Tkachuk.

  “In close quarters like an apartment building, a mace or short sword will actually be more effective than a firearm, especially given the lack of firearms training most recruits will have,” Lieutenant Colonel Burkhart replied coolly. “And the protective gear Sergeant Drake is wearing will provide an excellent level of protection against an enemy that does not know how to operate firearms or other ranged weapons.”

  “Surviving members of the Edmonton Police Service were the ones who informed us of the effectiveness of such tactics when we debriefed them. Our machine shop has begun to look at developing a rifle that we can manufacture easily and quickly, but without dies and presses, we cannot begin to mass produce anytime soon. All of the major gun manufacturers in Canada were located in southern Ontario, which as you all know, was overrun in late September. We can however, produce light chain mail fairly easily and are currently in the process of outfitting all our troops with it. As our enemies do not have guns, it is more than sufficient to prevent injury. After all, the infected have only teeth and fingernails to harm us,” Lieutenant Colonel Burkhart said. “Right now, we are producing about a dozen sets per day. If we ramp up production, we might reach fifty per day. That’s enough to outfit almost a battalion of combat troops in just over a week.”

  “While we have just over a thousand extra C-7 rifles in stores, we have no idea when we can find or replace weapons that are lost, damaged or destroyed while on missions. Our supplies of ammunition, again while currently sufficient, do not lend to clearing the city of tens of thousands, or even hundreds of thousands, of infected, ” said General Raine. “Finally, the vast majority of our heavy weapons like artillery and machine guns are not effective except against massed attacks of infected. They are very capable of destroying an apartment building, but not eliminating those lurking within it while also preserving the structure. That task requires troops to go inside and deal with them.”

  “We will start small, training and deploying a battalion of troops, one company at a time, and see how effective they are. Once we’ve beta-tested this, we can expand the program as quickly as possible. Look gentlemen, I do not like this course of action any more than you do. But we need shelter for the refugees on the base and we simply do not have enough troops to clear enough buildings to house everyone. Unless you can think of something better, then we really have no choice.”

  “How does this solve our food shortages?” Mayor Johnston inquired.

  “It will give us the manpower to move aggressively into the city and find new supplies, as well as clear out housing for the refugees on the base right now.”

  “That’s unconscionable!” Councillor Tkachuk yelled.

  “Again, I don’t like it, but we have tough choices to make. Losing a conscript, while regrettable, is far less serious than losing a soldier who has years of irreplaceable training and experience. Let me remind you, if we lose too many trained soldiers, this base may fall and all of us will perish.”

  “If it will help your conscience in making this decision, we have no plans to deploy this unit before the snow is on the ground permanently. Typically, that is mid-November, so that will give these recruits at least two weeks to train, although we’re hoping for three or even four weeks,” General Raine finished.

  “I assume there will be a ‘draft’ of sorts to find the individuals for these units?” Councillor Tkachuk inquired.

  “Yes, of course. Your point?” General Raine replied.

  “Do you plan on drafting women as well for these units? You know, for equality reasons?” Tkachuk asked, glancing at Councillor Fisher, who herself was an outspoken feminist.

  “Actually, no, we are not. If we were recruiting for a typical infantry unit, then we certainly would. As many of you know, we allow anyone, male or female to train for any occupation in the Canadian Armed Forces, including the combat arms, as long as they can meet the physical requirements of said role. This unit, however, will be different from our standard line infantry. The work they will undertake will largely be blade and spade work, so to speak, and it is doubtful that very many women would be able to handle the sheer physicality of the role. In fact, based on the projections I’ve seen, I doubt many of the male refugees on this base would be able to do it.”

  “Fair enough General, but what about equal rights?” Councillor Fisher asked. “This is the 21st century and women, not men, should decide whether or not they are capable of undertaking this task.”

  “As I said, if this was a typical infantry unit that would be riding in LAV IIIs and using C7 rifles, I would certainly expect women to take part in this role. Some of the best officers on this base are in fact women, and I have every faith in both their ability and their decision-making skills. However, this unit will be travelling on foot, with heavy combat loads and facing huge numbers of infected determined to tear them apart. The fact is that less than twenty percent of the civilian MEN on this base appear to be in good enough physical shape to take this on and while I have no doubt there likely are a small number of women who can do this, I’m not risking them in the trial stage. Once we have trained and deployed this unit – and taken losses from what will no doubt be mistakes on both their part and ours – then and only then will I consider allowing women in these units. This is not up for discussion, period.”

  She frowned at the hard truth, but nodded her head ever so slightly.

  The other politicos muttered and grumbled amongst themselves for a few minutes, then one-by-one, grudgingly voted in agreement.

  After the meeting adjourned and the politicians had all left, an orderly stepped up to Lieutenant Colonel Burkhart.

  “Sir. May I say something?”

  “Sure thing, Private.”

  “Yes sir. Ummm, I overheard part of the discussion about food running low and I was wondering if we’d had a chance to inspect the CN yards.”

  “No, we haven’t Private. Why?” Lieutenant Colonel Burkhart asked.

  “Well, my uncle was a CN engineer, and they used to ship massive loads of grains, food, oil, all sorts of stuff across the country. I was thinking that some of the fall harvest might already have been in. If we found a few carloads of grain, it could be ground into flour, which we could use to make bread. That would go a long ways to helping out in that regard, wouldn’t it?”

  “Damned good thinking Lumley. We’ve never even thought of searching the rail yards. I think Edmonton has a big CP yard somewhere on the south side of the city too. However, both are located fairly deep inside the city, and we simply don’t have the manpower to go in and secure either one right now. But I will mention your suggestion to the General,” Lieutenant Colonel Burkhart paused, “Good job soldier! Feel free to speak up again if you think of anything else.”

  “Yes sir!”

  Chapter 6

  October 30th

  “Rise and shine sunshine!” Private Davis shouted as he walked up to Xander’s cell.

  “Huh, what’s going on?” Xander mumbled groggily.

  “You’re a free man!” Private Davis replied.

  “About fucking time, how soon do I get out?” Xander asked, rubbing his eyes.

  “Right after lunch. You go for one more check-up, attend
a short orientation and then pick up your gear and head on out,” Private Davis said.

  “Where do I stay? What will I do?” Xander asked.

  “Don’t ask me. You’ll find out all that shit and more at orientation. Meanwhile, hand over everything I gave you, we got another truckload of newbies last night.”

  Xander passed the Xbox, laptop and everything else through the slot in the bars. Private Davis wiped it all down with disinfectant and placed it on his cart.

  Xander’s nose wrinkled at the strong chemical odor.

  “I’ve got to pick up everyone else’s stuff and then I’ll hand out lunch in a couple hours or so,” Private Davis said as he pushed his cart down the hallway.

  Xander spent the rest of the morning pacing in his cell. Given its small dimensions, that amounted to two steps left and then turning around and taking two steps right. Still, he was excited to get out and anxious to see Evelyn and the rest of the group after spending so long in what amounted to isolation.

  Davis came a couple hours later and gave Xander lunch, which, despite being as bland as every other meal Xander had had here, he wolfed down unceremoniously. Twenty minutes later, Davis returned.

  “Your turn big guy. Stick your hands through the slot,” Davis ordered.

  “Okay,” Xander replied and did as he was told. Private Davis slapped a pair of handcuffs on him.

  “Hey, what the fuck?” Xander protested.

  “Sorry, Standard Operating Procedure,” Private Davis replied.

  “Step back,” Private Davis ordered again as Xander complied.

  “Open door 1-3-6,” Davis said into his radio. Bolts disengaged with a thunk and the hinges hissed as the door slid open slowly.

  “Okay, step out slowly, then follow the hallway to the end and wait at the door,” Private Davis said.

  Xander stepped out and walked to the end of the hallway, where a thick security door waited. Private Davis whispered something into his radio and the door unlocked.

  “Okay, step through and follow Corporal Green’s instructions,” Private Davis said.

  Xander stepped through the door and it closed behind him. An incredibly beautiful woman in Canadian Forces camouflage stood in front of him, with her sidearm drawn, but not aimed at him.

  “Let’s go,” she commanded, motioning down the hallway. They crossed through another security door, this time manned by a pair of soldiers with assault rifles, then past an open office area with cubicles.

  “Stop three doors down on your left,” Corporal Green ordered.

  Xander walked down the hall and stopped in front of a door marked Infirmary. She looked him over one time, then holstered her sidearm and unlocked his cuffs. She opened the door and said, “Go in and take a seat.”

  He stepped into a medical office and the door closed quietly behind him. He sat down in a chair and waited. An orderly got his name, then retrieved a clipboard and some instruments.

  “Come with me please,” she said.

  Xander followed her behind a curtain and then she proceeded to take his vitals and a vial of blood. As she left she said, “The doctor will be with you momentarily.”

  A minute or so later, the doctor walked, “How are you doing…” he paused to look at the clipboard, “Xander?”

  “I feel fine,” Xander replied.

  “Great. Any fever over the past five days?”

  “Nope.”

  “Any headaches or blurred vision?”

  “Nope,” Xander said.

  “Good, good. As a precaution, I’m going to give you a physical. It won’t be as invasive as the one you got five days ago, but it will be close,” the doctor told him. “Please take off your shirt and pants.”

  The doctor ran through all the usual things, hitting his knees and elbows to check reaction times, listened to his breathing and whatnot. He spared Xander both the ‘turn your head and cough’ bit, and the proctology exam.

  “Your blood test came back negative and you look as healthy as a horse, Xander,” the doctor said.

  “Nothing more than exercise and a balanced diet,” Xander said. “Even inside the Costco, I tried to lift weights and do some cardio.”

  “Good, good. It looks like you’ve had surgery on your knee,” the doctor inquired.

  “Yeah, I had arthroscopic surgery on it seven years ago. My doctor told me it healed just fine though.”

  “Please get changed into these clothes and come with me please,” the doctor said nodding and making a notation in the file. “Oh, and bring your own clothes with you.”

  Xander changed quickly and followed the doctor into another room with several treadmills inside.

  “Do you mind?” the doctor said gesturing to one of the treadmills.

  “Uhh, okay sure,” Xander replied as he put his clothes on a chair.

  Xander got on the treadmill and the doctor fired it up.

  “Just let me know when it’s too much for you,” the doctor said as he turned it on.

  The doctor kept it at walking speed for a minute, then began adjusting it faster and faster. It wasn’t until it was going almost all out that Xander asked him to stop.

  “Excellent,” the doctor said, making some notes on the clipboard.

  “What was that all about?” Xander asked, panting.

  “It’s just part of your evaluation. If you want, you can change back into your clothes and take a quick shower in there,” the doctor said pointing to a small room.

  “Thanks, I am a little funky,” Xander replied.

  He went into the room and stripped off the overalls he had been given when he got here and hopped in the shower. As the hot water cascaded over Xander, he realized it had been a long time since he had taken a shower, unless he counted the ice cold shower he had been forced to take when he arrived.

  When he stepped out of the shower room clean and changed into his own clothes, he said, “Thanks Doc. I feel like a human again.”

  “You’re welcome, but don’t get used to it. We have limited water here on the base and have to ration it. We’re all limited to one shower per week now. Still, we allow all visitors one as a special treat.”

  “That’s better than the rectal exam I got when I came here,” Xander said.

  “Okay, where to now?” Xander asked.

  “Out that door, you’ll find your friends waiting in the room outside,” the doctor said.

  Dumbfounded, Xander opened the door to a larger room filled with chairs and a small podium. In the corner, a table had a selection of crackers and cheese and other finger food, as well as some cans of pop.

  An orderly said, “Help yourself to a bite to eat, then grab a seat, we’re going to begin the orientation soon.”

  Across the room, Xander saw his sister Diane, her husband Donald and his nephew Jared, as well as everyone else from the Costco. Then Evelyn saw Xander and rushed to greet him. He put his arms out for a hug and she fell into them.

  --------

  Dan was enjoying himself for the first time in a very, very long time.

  That was because he was playing with his brand new toy, a Parrot drone liberated from the electronics store at Manning Centre.

  Dan was lucky the damn thing was tough as nails, because he’d crashed it at least half a dozen times already.

  Even though it had been his idea to snag the drones, everybody on the base wanted to use them, so Dan had been forced to get creative to ensure he was one of the select few. He had told a little white lie that he had been one of the few Edmonton Police Service officers trained in their use. And because no one else in the administration or the Traffic Unit was on the base, nobody could call him on it.

  Before the shit hit the fan, the Edmonton Police Service had used drones for collision reconstruction as it allowed them an overhead view of skid marks, damage and everything else necessary to determine the causes of a crash. There had also been plans to use them for crime scene photos, but the pandemic had put an end to that.

  Of course Dan h
adn’t been trained on them at all. Sure, he had played around with one that Ed had had, and had been scheduled to take the training in the new year, but he never had any formal training on them. Even if he had, odds were slim and none that he would have actually gotten to use them because the EPS only had half a dozen of the things and there were a couple dozen officers already trained in their use.

  Fuck ‘em, Dan thought. Why the hell should the bigwigs and Army guys get all the cool fucking toys?

  Dan promptly crashed his drone again.

  “I thought you said you knew how to fly these things,” Private Barker said.

  “I do, but this is a commercial version and very different from the one I used on the Force,” Dan lied. “The other one synced into my iPhone and used an app, this one has this weird controller, but don’t worry, a couple hours and I’ll be a pro with this one too.”

  “At least let us try it out Sarge,” Private Hall whined.

  “I don’t think so,” Dan snorted as it crashed again. “Now stop distracting me!”

  Chapter 7

  October 30th

  Xander had only a few minutes to chat with Evelyn while he loaded up a paper plate with food.

  “Everyone take a seat and we’ll begin,” a soldier at the front of the room said.

  Xander grabbed a can of Coke as people shuffled to seats and sat down. Evelyn sat down beside Xander and lay her head on his shoulder, then slid her hand into his and gave it a gentle squeeze. Xander squeezed back and smiled at her.

  An officer in an immaculate dress uniform stepped up to the podium.

  “Hello and welcome to Edmonton Garrison. My name is Captain Armstrong and I’ll lead you through this orientation. I’ll start by running down how things work here on the base and what is expected of each of you, then I will open the floor to questions.”