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

by Friesen, Jamie

  “Dark Quarter?”

  “Officially, it’s the Temporary Refugee Quarters, but lots of guys call it the Dark Quarter, due to the crime rate and poor lighting,” Private Davis replied.

  “Crime rate? The officer in there said crime isn’t tolerated.”

  “It isn’t, but how can you prove who stole your shit if you were at work when it happened?”

  “Seriously? It’s the end of the world and people are still being assholes?” Xander asked.

  “Survival of the fittest man. Some people were always assholes, and this shit just brought it to the surface. Others are lazy fuckers who want an easy ride. And a few are downright poison and should be get a bullet in the head. You seem like a smart guy – you should know how life works,” Private Davis replied.

  “Yeah, life isn’t fair, right?”

  Davis nodded. “Rumour has it there is even a brothel in the Dark Quarter.”

  Xander’s eyes widened in surprise.

  Davis continued, “Look around man. This place is full of young, testosterone-filled guys. There are probably four or five guys for every woman on the base.”

  Xander rolled his eyes.

  “Exactly. That’s why I’m telling you what I’m telling you – take whatever they offered and run. Otherwise the scammers will just take it when you’re not looking. If you don’t believe me, take a look at how many cars have broken windows in the parking lot near the TRQ.”

  “Thanks for the heads up,” Xander said.

  “Anytime. Good luck,” Private Davis said as he walked off.

  Xander turned around and went back inside and right up to Captain Armstrong, who was talking to another refugee Xander didn’t know. When they finished their conversation, Xander said, “I’d like to sell my stuff please.”

  “Sure thing son. Come over here and Private Wong will take care of you,” he said.

  Xander haggled a bit over the items on his list and a few minutes later, Xander walked out of the office with a stack of crisp five dollar bills. The only things Xander kept was a box of granola bars and some other snacks, as well as a small five litre jerry can of gas that fit in a nook in the trunk. Another private walked with him to his truck and helped him carry everything he had sold to an army truck sitting in the parking lot.

  When he got back inside, he immediately went to his sister and told her what Private Davis had told him. Donald, however, refused to sell at such bargain prices, and no matter how hard Diane tried, she couldn’t convince him.

  While they were arguing, Xander made sure to tell everyone else from Costco and most of them took the advice as it was intended and they sold their stuff too. They also compared where each one was staying and working.

  Diane, with her background as a teacher, was going to teach Grade 6 kids, while Donald was supposed to work in a kitchen, but he was already scheming how to get an exemption so he could continue being the lazy asshole he naturally was. Fred and his wife Janice had been assigned to the motor pool, to repair and maintain engines, which probably had something to do with the Harley Davidson addiction, as both could repair, or at least tinker with their bikes. Patricia, Jack and his wife Shelley had all been assigned to the factory, whatever that was, while both Katie and Evelyn had somehow landed desk jobs.

  “Probably has something to do with their looks,” Donald groused.

  Everyone had been assigned to the TRQ – the only question was where in the TRQ. Families were mostly assigned to tents in one quadrant, while the single guys and girls had been assigned to other quadrants.

  “Do you want to go explore the base?” Xander asked Evelyn.

  She nodded.

  “Do you mind if I tag along,” Gary asked as he approached them. As it turned out, Gary was assigned to the same tent as Xander.

  “Sure, why not,” Xander said, even though Evelyn was frowning slightly.

  Before they left, Xander made sure to grab another Coke and snag a couple extra sandwiches, which earned him a dirty look from Evelyn.

  “Never turn down free food during the apocalypse,” Xander said cheerfully.

  “Good point Xander. Do you mind waiting a minute, I want to go back and grab some extra food too?” Gary asked.

  Xander nodded as he and Evelyn got in the Pathfinder. Xander’s cell phone was dead as a doornail. He sighed and plugged his phone in to charge.

  “Want to do yours?” He asked Evelyn.

  “My cable is in my backpack,” she said, jerking her thumb to the back.

  Xander shrugged, “I have to stop at the Armoury and drop off the pistol.”

  “What about your rifle?” Evelyn asked.

  “What rifle? I don’t see a rifle on this list…” Xander replied.

  “I’d drop it off if I were you, or do you want to get in trouble?” She shot back.

  “Hey, there isn’t a rifle on my list, so I’m not about to turn one in,” Xander replied. “It’s an insurance policy in case something happens – so don’t tell anyone about it either.”

  Evelyn sighed, “Fine, I won’t. But I still don’t like what you’re doing.”

  Chapter 8

  October 30th

  Once again, Xander was wrong. Dead wrong.

  He had thought it couldn’t get any worse than his time in prison, but life in the refugee camp looked like it was going to be much worse. Everywhere he looked, people lived in squalid conditions. Many people had arrived with little more than the clothes on their backs and looked like the third world refugees he had seen on TV so many times in the past. Ripped and filthy clothing, with a hungry, almost feral look in their eyes.

  Xander had parked his Pathfinder in a huge grassy field filled with hundreds of other vehicles, right next to a sprawling tent city. Private Davis was right, probably half the vehicles in the parking lot had at least one broken window – no doubt courtesy of the dirt bags who called this place home temporarily. Inside the camp, the vast majority of the tents were olive drab, military tents similar to what Captain Armstrong had described, but here and there, colourful civilian tents stood out in his field of vision. Off to one side, were a few dozen different RVs – trailers, Winnebagos and pick-up truck mounted campers. Xander had gasped when he saw the size of the refugee camp – he had expected a couple dozen tents perhaps, but the sea of tents spread as far as he could see. At a quick guess, there were hundreds of tents, maybe even thousands.

  “I hope we can find our tents in there,” Xander said.

  “Yeah, it looks a lot bigger than they said in the orientation,” Evelyn mumbled.

  Fortunately for Xander and Evelyn, military efficiency made even this expanse of tents somewhat navigable. The tents had been arranged with military precision in straight lines, leaving three meter wide gaps between the rows, creating rudimentary footpaths. In some places, there was gravel spread out, creating simple sidewalks, but most of the paths were dirt, which had quickly turned to mud as people trudged back and forth. They were narrow enough to prevent cars from driving through, but plenty wide for people to walk three or four abreast if they wanted to. Most people stuck to the right side of the path depending on which direction they were headed, just as if they were driving. The troops who built the camp also made sure to post signs noting directions and landmarks in the encampment such as bathrooms, the Military Police tent or Refugee Services tent. These made finding one’s way easier. Every couple of ‘intersections’, there were portable lights set up, which Xander assumed were used at night time to light up the camp.

  Using his map, he was able to walk Evelyn to her tent. He had wanted to go in to help her settle in, but an older woman forbid it and barred him from entering until he left.

  “What the fuck is her problem?” Xander said to Gary as they left to find their own tent.

  “So where are you assigned, Gary?”

  “Kitchen duty,” Gary said. “I worked as a cook at Uncle Albert’s for a couple years before I got hired at Costco. I hated cooking in a restaurant. You get all hot an
d sweaty and greasy and the pay sucks. I had hoped I had left that shit behind me, but even after the end of the world, I’m stuck working a fry cook. Guess honesty doesn’t pay off!”

  “That sucks dude,” Xander replied. “I think this one is ours.”

  Xander and Gary went into the tent and found two guys rummaging around inside, digging in backpacks and under cots. They turned to look at Xander and Gary, surprised.

  Trust many, trust few, always paddle your own canoe, popped into his mind. It was a phrase Uncle Dan had told him dozens of times when he was on the farm. Due to his relatively liberal middle class upbringing, he had always thought it smacked of right wing paranoia. But now, having seen how the other half lived, he completely understood what Uncle Dan had meant. With the wad of bills in his pocket and his backpack full of stuff, he was suddenly part of the one percent here, with most other people in the camp were on the other side of the equation.

  As he dwelled on Uncle Dan, two other men walked into the tent.

  One of them nodded and without warning, all four of them launched themselves at Xander and Gary.

  Neither Gary or Xander had a chance to get their guard up and they were both knocked to the ground. There was a melee and a mishmash of punches, kicks and elbows thrown by themselves and their assailants. Out of the corner of his eye, Xander could see one of them rummaging through his backpack. Xander struggled to his feet and punched one of the guys struggling with Gary in the back of the head, knocking him out. Then he turned and threw a hard punch at someone else, and connected with his gut. Xander heard the air whoosh from his target’s lungs, then he saw him collapse to the ground, gasping for air. By this time, Gary had gotten back to his feet and the other two, including the thief digging in Xander’s backpack, turned and dashed out of the tent. Xander’s foot lashed out and one of them tumbled to the ground, dropping the backpack and its contents. He scrambled to his feet and disappeared outside.

  Xander turned on the man gasping for air and kicked him hard in the head. He went flying and hit his head on one of the cots, knocking him unconscious.

  “What the fuck was that all about,” Xander panted.

  “Who the fuck knows?” Gary replied, equally out of breath. “Remind me never to piss you off Xander. You sure kicked some ass, where’d you learn to fight like that?”

  “I fought once and a while on the ice, plus took a few Karate classes in my day,” Xander replied.

  Xander knelt down and began searching both men. Neither one had any ID or anything on them. Then he checked his backpack – aside from a couple chocolate bars, it didn’t look like anything was missing.

  “What do we do know?” Gary asked.

  “I guess we go find a cop and report these assholes. Any ideas where to look?”

  Gary looked at his map, “There’s supposed to be a Military Police tent not too far away. Do you want to go or should I?”

  “How about you go and get some help, I’ll watch fucking Tweedle Dee and Tweedle Dumb over here.”

  Xander didn’t have any rope to secure them, so he just stood near them and when one started to wake up, Xander kicked him hard in the ribs.

  “Don’t even think about getting up motherfucker!”

  The guy on the ground nodded and didn’t move again.

  When Gary returned with a pair of military cops about ten minutes later, the cops cuffed the two muggers and took a statement from Xander and Gary, then suggested they head over to the medical tent to get checked out as they left with the muggers in tow.

  The medics checked them over and rubbed some foul smelling anti-septic that stung like hell on the scrapes and cuts they had received, and then handed them a bunch of Band-Aids and a little tube of Poly-Sporin.

  “Make sure you change the Band-Aids twice a day, and use the Poly-Sporin until they are scabbed over. An infection out here could be very serious,” one of the medics said as they discharged them.

  “Where to now?” Gary asked.

  Xander looked at the map of the camp that had been part of his orientation package and said, “I’m going to go check on my sister and nephew. You?”

  “I’m going to go find Katie. Maybe this shiner will earn me some sympathy loving!” Gary said jokingly.

  “Did you two have something going at Costco?”

  “No, I think she slept with just about every other guy in there but me. Still, you can’t blame a guy for trying, can you?”

  “Not at all Gary. I guess you have to find the silver lining in this black cloud,” Xander replied as Gary left.

  Holding the map up, Xander explored the camp as he searched for Diane’s tent.

  It turned out that his tent was on the opposite side of the camp from Diane’s and even with the map and signs, it still took him nearly twenty minutes of searching to find it.

  “Hello, is anyone inside?” Xander shouted.

  “Is that you Uncle Xander?” came a voice from inside the tent.

  “Yes, is that you Jared?”

  “Yep,” Jared said as he stepped out of the tent.

  “Where is your mom?” Xander asked.

  “She went to the Refugee Services tent to request something,” Jared replied. “What happened Uncle Xander?”

  “A couple jerks tried to jump me and Gary and we had to defend ourselves.”

  “It looks like it hurts,” Jared said, pointing to one of Xander’s injuries.

  Xander said, “Don’t worry about it, kiddo. Are you here all by yourself?”

  “No, Dad is inside taking a nap,” Jared said.

  “Jesus H. Christ!” Slipped out of Xander’s mouth before he could stop himself. Xander sighed and said, “How are you doing?”

  “We’re okay. The tent has one other family, but they aren’t around…working I guess.”

  While they were talking, Diane returned.

  “Hey Xander, how ya doing?” She said as she came up behind him.

  Xander turned around and Diane’s look of joy turned to one of fear and worry.

  “Let’s see, we’re living in a third world slum, my tent mates attacked me and look like they’d like to slit my throat the second I fall asleep. But don’t worry, the authorities have hauled them away and I’m sure they’ll get community service or some bullshit!”

  “I’d ask if you’re okay, but I’ve seen you look worse after a fight in the playoffs.” Diane winked.

  Yeah, I’m okay, I guess,” Xander said sighing.

  Diane leaned in and gave him a hug, “Don’t worry, it’ll all be okay.”

  “Thanks Sis. To top it off, they separated Evelyn and I.”

  “But you’ve only known Evelyn for a month or so,” Diane said. “Is it that such a big a deal?”

  “True, but we’ve been very close over that time,” Xander said. “Besides, it’s not just that they separated Evelyn and I - they separated all of us from each other and just dumped us in here at random. And getting housed with a couple psychopaths hasn’t done anything to make my mood better.”

  “Fair enough. While I can’t do anything about your situation, I know someone who can. If you go to the Refugee Services tent, you can request a move to another tent.”

  “Great, so I trade in one group of scumbags for another set,” Xander replied.

  “Well, actually, I was thinking you could request a move to our tent. We are technically family, you know,” Diane said.

  “Now why the hell didn’t I think of that?” Xander mumbled.

  “Because you’re pissed off and angry and not thinking straight. Let’s go over there and see if they’ll let you move, okay?”

  “Okay, sounds like a plan,” Xander said.

  “You coming Jared?” Diane asked.

  “Nah, I’ll stay here with Dad if it’s all the same to you,” he replied.

  “Okay, just be careful.”

  “Napping, ” Jared said.

  Diane rolled her eyes and turned to Xander. “Give me a second, I’ll be right back.”

  D
iane walked into the tent and then Xander heard a thud, following by shouting.

  “Get your ass out of bed, you lazy bum!” Diane shouted.

  “What’s the problem?” Donald grumbled.

  “The least you could fucking do is watch our stuff and Jared. You can’t leave him alone outside, wandering around. You’ve got to keep an eye on him, this place is pretty rough!”

  “We’re in the middle of a fucking army base with a couple thousand guys with guns. The trouble is outside, on the other side of the fence!” Donald shouted back.

  “Do you want all our stuff stolen? Didn’t you hear what Xander told us?”

  “Oh come on, Xander’s just being a drama queen, like always. There’s nothing to fucking worry about. Now let me go back to sleep!”

  “He just got attacked by four guys when he got to his tent for the stuff in his backpack! You wanted to keep this shit, so you better get your ass out of bed and key an eye on it!” Diane stormed out of the tent, fuming. “He won’t be happy until someone steals all our shit!”

  “Mom!” Jared said.

  “Sorry, Jared but he should be watching our stuff, not taking a goddamned nap. If you’re going to stay with Dad, do me a favour and hang around the tent please. I don’t want someone stealing our food,” Diane said. “And be careful. I don’t want you getting hurt over a few cans of food.”

  “Okay Mom.”

  Xander and Diane headed off.

  “So you didn’t sell your stuff? How in the hell did Donald win that argument?” Xander asked.

  “We decided to sell about half of it, but Donald wanted to keep some of the fuel, junk food and other stuff. He thinks we can sell it in here and make enough to postpone working for a few more weeks,” she replied.

  “Good Lord, is that all he does…think of ways to get out of contributing?”

  “Pretty much. Look, I know you and him and don’t see eye-to-eye, especially after what went down at the Costco, but he is still my husband and Jared’s father.”