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Post by accountant on Oct 25, 2017 11:32:01 GMT -6
Hi all,
I have enjoyed reading many of the fine writing by all the creative writers on these boards. The imagination that you possess is incredible.
You have inspired me to get my creative juices flowing and so I have started a story on my own which I hope you will enjoy.
I have noticed that all of the stories I have read on this and other boards is very US-centric. As someone who lives in Canada, I thought I would write something that is more northern-based and I hope you will like it. We don't have as much of a gun culture up here as y'all do down there and I wanted to bring the Canadian flavour to my work.
The back story is based on things I have gone through so I know where the main character is coming from.
I hope you enjoy and feedback is always welcome.
Thanks!
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Post by accountant on Oct 25, 2017 11:34:35 GMT -6
Chapter 1 Paul sat down at the desk in the office of his home. He had enjoyed sitting at this desk. It was a large executive desk made of hardwood and had a black walnut finish. His wife, Ana, had fallen in love with it at one of those high-end décor stores and just had to have it. It had sat in this room for more than 10 years and the rest of the room décor was built around it, mainly because it was so heavy it could not be moved.
As he sat, he looked past the ladder in the middle of the room, out the large front window onto the front yard and driveway. It was early April so the grass was still brown but would be turning green soon enough. The sun was fairly high with no clouds in the sky and he could make out a black squirrel doing whatever it was squirrels did during the day.
“Well”, he thought to himself, “now’s a good a time as any”.
He had made all the preparations earlier that day. The half-finished bottle of Glenfinnich 18 year old single malt was placed next to his favourite crystal tumbler. The tumbler had been one of a set of four that Paul and Ana had received as part of a wedding gift twenty five years ago and over the years, the other three had accidentally smashed in one way or another.
To the left of the tumbler was the large pill bottle full of painkillers he had been prescribed when he had his first attack of kidney stones a few years ago. The doctor in ER had said that there would be a lot of pain and suggested that Paul take them until the stone passed. Paul had hated the idea of taking pills but Ana had insisted that they fill the prescription. Paul had taken a few for the pain, but the majority had just sat in the medicine cabinet since then. The final item on the desk was a five round revolver. It was a S&W 357 magnum. Paul had bought it at a gun show in Buffalo one day when he, Ana, and the girls had gone across the border to do some back to school shopping. The customs agent at the Niagara Falls border had just seen the family as one of hundreds who had gone to the US to shop and let them pass through with a wave. Paul had caught bloody hell from Ana when they had gotten back home. He had to put the gun and the single box of 20 rounds in a locked toolbox in the rafters of the garage. He had taken it out a few times when he went on his hikes in the hills close to home and fired it off but decided that he didn’t like the feel of it. He had realized then that this was machine designed specifically to kill humans and he wanted no part of that. Now there were only the 5 rounds left in the gun.
Paul poured a half glass of scotch into the glass and took a big gulp. He would have liked to have it over ice but that had all melted when the power went off so he was drinking it straight. He then emptied the pill bottle into his hand. He was surprised to see that the relatively small size of each pill could knock a man out and a handful, well… Paul tossed the pills into his mouth and followed that up with a large gulp of scotch. He felt the burn of the alcohol going down his throat and knew that the final bliss would be coming soon.
As he waited, he thought back through his life. He remembered the struggles of his early years going to school during the day and working at night to support his mother and sisters when his alcoholic father had left. Then university, doing the same, working full time and going to classes full time working towards his degree in business admin. That was when he had met Ana and they had fallen for each other hard. He remembered the early simple times, times of taking walks around the neighborhood dreaming of one day owning one of those big brick houses with the double garages and sitting by the river dipping toes in the water and watching the boats go by. He remembered getting his degree and how proud Ana was, smiling from ear to ear. He remembered when they had bought their first small row house together after he had gotten his first “real” job and how she had started to cry when she unlocked the front door. The memories can flooding back. The birth of Angie, their first, followed 4 years later by Shawna. The day he received his CPA designation. The move from Ottawa to a suburb of Toronto for the big house and the big job in the big city. The first words of each girl, Angie said Mama, and Shawna said Dada. The steps that each of the girls took. Their first days of school. Their first piano recitals and dropping them off on their first day at university.
Along with the good times, the bad times also demanded his attention. The day his alcoholic father came back. The day of the big argument and getting kicked out of his mother’s house. The days wondering if Ana and he would have enough from the paycheck to pay all their bills that month and which would have to be delayed. The days of politely declining invitations to go on vacations with friends because they just didn’t have the money. The days of worry when Ana started bleeding early in her pregnancy. The days of finding out they had lost their first child before he was born. The days of downsizing and looking for a new job then restructuring and looking for a new job. Those days came too often. The days of cutting back again because unemployment insurance just wasn’t enough to cover all the expenses. The day where Ana had to get a job because the markets had crashed and no one was hiring accountant at that time. The days of seeing frustration and disappointment in his children’s eye.
Through it all, Ana had stayed with him. She had been his rock whenever his whole world was spinning out of control. She had been the one to stand up for him when no one else would, not even he himself.
That world had ended four weeks ago. Had it really just been four weeks? His mind had started to become addled as he took another drink of scotch. By this time Angie had graduated from university and was living and working down in Toronto’s financial district as an investment banker. Shawna was in her first year of university 150 miles away studying engineering at the University of Western Ontario in London, Ontario. Ana was working at her job near the airport. Paul had again suffered from a “reduction in force” exercise at his last job and was home searching through the job listings on the internet when it happened. It was 1:23pm on a Thursday. There was a bright flash of light in the sky and suddenly the power went out. Paul was confused as it was a normal sunny day and there was no reason for the power to be off and certainly no reason for his laptop to shut down. He checked his phone and it wasn’t working. Nothing was working. Then the planes began to fall. Lots of them.
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frankie
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Posts: 49
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Post by frankie on Oct 25, 2017 12:18:39 GMT -6
I like it so far, need moar.
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Post by biggkidd on Oct 25, 2017 12:25:20 GMT -6
Good start welcome. These guys and gals can write some great stories. Looks like you'll make fine company here. Wish I could write like you all do. I just don't have the imagination I guess. Sure like reading it though.
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Post by papaof2 on Oct 25, 2017 13:32:55 GMT -6
Good start. You'll have the next 10 chapter tomorrow? ;-)
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Post by accountant on Oct 26, 2017 7:31:46 GMT -6
Chapter 2
Paul grabbed the keys to his old 2004 minivan and walked outside. He tried to start the minivan but it wouldn’t start. No crank, no lights, no nothing and he was wondering what was going on. As Brampton was a bedroom community, there weren’t a lot of people around as most were at work during the daytime, especially in his neighbourhood which had some of the larger homes and lots. As he lived in a secluded cul-de-sac ringed with ravines, he had to do a fair amount of walking before he could get to the main road where there was a strip mall with a takeout pizza place, a convenience store, a walk-in clinic and pharmacy and a nail salon. He had a feeling about what had happened but wanted to be sure. When he saw all the cars stopped on the main road, he knew for sure.
The last time he had been restructured, he had a lot of time to read and watch TV. On one occasion, he had watched as a former senior member of the US defense department was testifying to the US Congress that the biggest threat to the United States was an EMP attack which would wipe out all the electronics that modern society had become accustomed to. Paul started researching EMPs and their effects along with other “TEOTWAWKI” information and scenarios. A lot of it was very US centric but he figured that what happened to big brother would definitely affect Canada as well, if it happened at all. He read about the effects of a nuclear bomb, fallout, biological agents, chemical attacks, stock market crashes, the electrical grid being taken down, invasions, government takedowns, and FEMA camps. He also read about prepping, medicinal herbs, organic farming, solar panels, rocket stoves, foraging, edible plants, building small traps, and living off the grid. He had liked the idea of being prepared for as much as could be prepared for and thought that one day he and Ana would buy a small farm and live a less modern life. When he told Ana about it, she laughed good-humoredly and reminded him of the time he was going to build an electromagnetic generator or the time he was going to buy the majority shares of a struggling penny stock and turn it around. Paul had always been a dreamer, always hoping for the best, and always had Ana by his side. The EMP attack had changed all that.
The week after the attack was going to be March break so a lot of families were leaving early to head down south for some sun and fun. The airport was packed on that Thursday afternoon and there were plenty of flights coming in to take them where they wanted to go. When the planes started falling there was devastation everywhere. With so many planes preparing to land when the power systems went off, the airport and the area around it was a destroyed in fireball after fireball. Not just at the airport but all the planes in a holding pattern within a 20 mile radius fell and rained death on the people on the ground. Downtown Toronto had been wiped out. The financial district being close to the lake and the other airport on the lake was hit hardest with tower after tower crashing down into fiery heaps.
Paul had ran and walked the long road that led to the airport hoping and praying that she Was okay. It took him more than two hours to get to what was left of the building where Ana had worked. The once shiny glass enclosed state of the art building had been reduced to a pile of smouldering ashes with random office chairs, file folders, and body parts lying around. He started sifting through the rubble, screaming her name, still hoping that she was there somewhere in that pile of debris. He was covered with ashes and his hands were cut and burning but still his brain wouldn’t let him stop. He kept on screaming and searching until others pulled him away from what he was doing. He just sat there for what seemed like an eternity staring at the devastation until finally he accepted the awful fact in front of him.
She was gone.
The one who had carried him when he couldn’t stand was no longer there.
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Post by motherhen on Oct 26, 2017 21:39:43 GMT -6
This is a great start, I look forward to reading more!
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Post by accountant on Oct 27, 2017 9:48:34 GMT -6
I wanted to make this story about an individual who is not a prepper and does not have all the resources that a fully prepared person would have. I wanted to make it about a "normal" person who has a goal he needs to complete using only his knowledge, intelligence, and normal items that one would find around the house and the environment against all the trials he would be facing along the way.
I know that the exposition part of the story is taking a while so please bear with me until we get to the meat of the story.
Thanks for your kind words.
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Post by cutter on Oct 27, 2017 10:52:57 GMT -6
You are doing just fine my friend.
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Post by pbbrown0 on Oct 29, 2017 6:05:15 GMT -6
Your approach to this story is a really good one. Your story telling has already gripped my imagination. I do not want to rush you, but I am genuinely eager for MOAR.
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Post by papaof2 on Oct 29, 2017 9:57:13 GMT -6
accountant you'd best hurry with the next chapter - you've awakened the dreaded MOAR monster! ;-)
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Post by accountant on Oct 30, 2017 8:56:28 GMT -6
Chapter 3 Paul stood. Ana was gone, but he had to find Angie. Somehow, he began walking. He had to find her. The firestorm that had been Toronto loomed in front of him, but he kept walking. He walked down the highway full of smashed cars and people wandering around aimlessly. He didn’t even see them. He just kept walking. Down highway 427, down the Gardner Expressway, past the dead and dying, past the burned out shells of planes and building he walked. He took one step after the other and kept on walking. Where the top of the CN tower had fallen on the expressway he walked around it. Where the raised expressway had crashed down on Lakeshore Boulevard, he walked through it. He walked until he reached Bay Street, the main hub of the financial district. There was ash and rubble everywhere. Tall glistening towers had crumbled to the ground and there were bodies everywhere. He finally reached the building where Angie had worked and looked around. He searched for her everywhere. He went through the rubble and searched for her. He wandered all around looking. He heard the moans of people in pain. He smelled the awfulness of burnt flesh and death. He looked and looked until the sun was about to go down. The once brilliant city had gone dark except where the fires continued to burn. There were no sirens, no blasting horns, no normal sounds of the city, just the cries of the dying and the cries of the survivors. Paul’s energy was depleted but he kept looking. He wiped the soot from his glasses and kept looking. Two blocks from the tower he found her. Somehow, she had managed to crawl away from the burnt out shell and was resting next to a dumpster behind an old Chinese restaurant. Half her right leg was missing and there was a gaping wound on her lower abdomen but it was Angie.
Angie had been Paul and Ana’s golden child. When the doctor had told the couple that they had lost their first child, she also told them that there was a high probability that they would never have children. The shock hit them both with the intensity of a F5 hurricane and brought all their dreams crashing down around them. For weeks Ana cried and cried and cried mourning the loss of their child and the possible loss of the chance to be a parent. For months Paul raged and raged and raged. He raged on the inside, cursing God for putting him through the life he had led and for putting his sweet Ana through such turmoil, pain, and sorrow. Paul cursed all the happy, oblivious people living in their blissful, materialistic world who never had to feel the agony he was going through. But mostly he cursed himself. He cursed himself for all the mistakes he had made in the past, for all the hurt he may have caused other unknowingly, and for failing to be able to give Ana the child that they both needed to make them parents. He became bitter and cold on the inside. To Ana and the rest of the world, he tried to be strong and optimistic but deep inside he could not stop his never ending screams of pain. Their days were filled with the monotony of everyday tasks and at night they held onto each other tightly, afraid that if they lost their grip on each other, their whole world would shatter.
Then one night, more than 8 months later, Ana softly took Paul’s hand in hers and said “I’m pregnant.”
Paul’s eyes started to well up and he held Ana tightly as they both sobbed. Ana wept for joy and thankfulness, while Paul cried from sheer terror and anguish. He was terrified of what would happen to Ana if this baby also didn’t make it. He didn’t know how he would be able to console her after a second loss of that magnitude. He didn’t know how he would be able to go on if something terrible were to happen to that baby. The screams of pain in his head were now joined by the howls of fearful moans.
Over the next few months, Ana was filled with joy and happiness. Paul was glad to see the old Ana coming back but he was still filled with dread and bitterness. As Ana’s belly grew, she smiled and laughed again as the precious life grew inside her. She talked to the baby, read it books, sang songs, and loved it completely. Paul, however, hesitated to show the same love. He was always afraid that somehow, in some way, God would snatch this child from them like He did the last one. Together, they painted and put up wallpaper in the baby’s room and decorated it. Paul put together the furniture for the room. Ana lovingly sewed the bedding for the crib by hand.
One night, late in the pregnancy, Ana started to bleed. As Paul rushed her to the hospital, the anger and bitterness built up inside him against God once again. By the time they got to the hospital, Ana started to have contractions and they knew it was time. She was rushed to the delivery room and the doctor took extra care with her knowing her past history. For hours, the contractions continued and Paul stayed by Ana’s side throughout them all, begging and pleading with God to let everything be okay. For hours, the screams and howls in his head were at a fever pitch and there was nothing he could do to stop it. Then suddenly he heard a soft baby’s cry. It was the most beautiful sound he had ever heard. It released him from the screams and howls that had held him hostage for so, so long. It made all the pain, anguish, and bitterness disappear completely. For the first time, Paul cried happy tears of relief. He silently thanked God for the precious gift He had bestowed on him and Ana and he promised to be the best father that he could be for his beautiful baby daughter. Joy had returned to his soul. He had been saved by that perfect, sweet sound.
When Paul looked down at Angie now, he didn’t see the dirt, blood, and ash all around her. All he saw was his beautiful baby daughter. A calm came over him as he knelt down next to her beside the dumpster and took her into his arms. He wiped the ashes from her face and kissed her cheeks and forehead. Angie slowly opened her eyes and tried to focus on her father as he cradled her in his arms.
“Daddy, is that you?” “Yes, sweetie. It’s me.” “I was so scared. I’m cold, Daddy. I’m so cold.” “I know, sweetie. I know. It’s okay. I’m here now.” “I love you, Daddy.”
Paul felt her release herself at that moment and he just held her closer, rocking her gently, knowing that she wasn’t hurting any more.
“I love you too, sweetie.”
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Post by pbbrown0 on Oct 30, 2017 10:13:25 GMT -6
I thought accountants had a reputation for being cold and emotionless. Seriously, you have a talent as a writer for gripping someone's heart and not letting go.
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Post by spazzy on Oct 31, 2017 12:16:12 GMT -6
I thought accountants had a reputation for being cold and emotionless. Seriously, you have a talent as a writer for gripping someone's heart and not letting go.
I'm an accountant, you forgot heartless...
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Post by accountant on Nov 3, 2017 8:04:12 GMT -6
Chapter 4
Paul stood up still holding the body of his precious daughter. He had forgotten how light she was. It had been a long time since he had carried her. He knew that there was nothing anyone could do for her here so he started walking. He felt the anger start to boil up inside him again. There was no way that he was going to stay with his precious daughter in this God forsaken place with these God forsaken people. It was a long walk, past the crowds of people just stand around shell shocked. He didn’t care about the destroyed buildings or the wrecked planes. He didn’t care about the people screaming or the people hiding or the people laughing. He didn’t care about the people smashing windows or running with boxes of cellphone and laptops. He couldn’t help them and they couldn’t help him. All he wanted to do was get his child home away from the hell all around him. He didn’t know what time it was or how long it took but he carried her 10 miles west up the Gardiner Expressway, then 20 miles north on Highway 427 past the burning rubble of the airport to Brampton and finally home.
Paul carried Angie up to her bedroom and laid her down gently on her bed. He went into her adjoining bathroom, wet a washcloth and came back. She looked so peaceful laying on her bed, he thought. He carefully cleaned all the ashes, dust, and debris from his precious child’s body while sobbing continuously. It was at that moment that the anguish, stress, and devastation overcame him and he fell to the floor of his child’s room. He tried to get back to his feet but couldn’t. Using every last ounce of energy he had, Paul crawled back to Angie’s bed and climbed onto it. Slowly, he laid down next to the still body of his child and holding her, he lost consciousness.
When he woke up, it was later in the day. The sun was about to set. Paul vaguely sensed that someone was banging on his front door but he didn’t care. He had other things to take care of.
Standing, he walked down the stairs and out the back door onto the deck and looked out over the ravine. It still looked as peaceful as ever. He walked down the stairs of the deck and crossed the backyard to the utility shed where he kept all his gardening tools. Opening the door, he took out the heavy shovel. He went back towards the house and finding a sunny spot under Angie’s window, he began to dig.
He slammed the shovel in and took out a mound of dirt.
Slam the shovel in and pull out a mound of dirt.
All his focus was on that one mechanical task.
Slam the shovel in and pull out a mound of dirt.
He couldn’t allow his mind to think of anything else. This was the most important thing in the world and he had to do it.
Slam the shovel in and pull out a mound of dirt.
Slam the shovel in and pull out a mound of dirt.
Slam the shovel in and pull out a mound of dirt.
His muscles were screaming but his focus wouldn’t let him stop.
Slam the shovel in and pull out a mound of dirt.
Slam the shovel in and pull out a mound of dirt.
Slam the shovel in and pull out a mound of dirt.
Slam the shovel in and pull out a mound of dirt.
Slam the shovel in and pull out a mound of dirt.
Slam the shovel in and pull out a mound of dirt.
Slam the shovel in and pull out a mound of dirt.
It took time, but soon he had dug a large plot 3 feet by 7 feet and 5 feet deep. He wanted to crawl into that hole, cover himself up with dirt and just be done with it but he knew he couldn’t. This was not for him.
Paul went back in the house and into Angie’s bedroom. He very carefully covered Angie’s body with the comforter that she was lying on but couldn’t bring himself to cover her face. She was his child and he didn’t want her to suffocate. He knew that was an irrational thought, but he still couldn’t do it. Slowly and somberly, he walked back down to the backyard and gently laid her down in her final resting place. Paul again climbed back out of the hole and looked down at Angie with tears streaming down his face. He wanted to say a prayer for her soul but couldn’t. What kind of God would force a parent to dig a grave for their child and bury her? Who would he be saying a prayer to?
Paul closed his eyes and pushed the dirt back over the hole he had made. It was only when he couldn’t feel any more earth to push with his hands did he open them again. The moon was up and it cast an eerie glow over the backyard and ravine. There was a mound of dirt where Angie now rested. Paul tenderly caressed the mound, knowing that Angie was down there.
A sense of shock suddenly came over him. When he was gone, there was no way for others to know that his beautiful baby was there. They had to know. They had to respect this ground. It may not be consecrated or holy to anyone else but to him it was more sacred than any cathedral or temple in the world. Paul went back to Angie’s bedroom and took her framed degree off the wall. He went into his bedroom and took her smiling baby picture off the top of the mirror that had been attached to it for so many years. Paul opened the frame of Angie’s degree and placed the baby picture between the glass and the degree before closing it back again. Going back to the grave, he firmly pushed the edge of the framed degree into the dirt so it stood out like a marker.
Paul walked over to the side of the house and slid down into a sitting position. He sat there holding a silent vigil over the grave of his child in the middle of the night, keeping her company the only way he could.
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Post by accountant on Nov 3, 2017 8:41:20 GMT -6
Hi all,
Thank you all for your kind words.
In this chapter, I wanted to do a little experiment on the readers. When Paul is digging the grave, I used repetition to give the sense of stress and uncomfortableness so that the reader would get a sense of what Paul is going through. I would appreciate it if you could let me know what you were feeling when you read this.
At this time I am a little stuck. I know where the story will go from the point in time where Chapter 1 started. I am just having a hard time getting back to that time frame. It's like putting together a jigsaw puzzle where you are creating the pieces as you go, but there are still a lot of blank spaces so the whole picture isn't quite formed yet.
Thanks again.
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Post by pbbrown0 on Nov 3, 2017 10:41:45 GMT -6
Accountant,
You are doing an exceptionally fine job with your writing. your tool for conveying stress and discomfort was perfect! It engaged the reader letting them begin to feel a sense of what Paul was going through rather than merely giving them a quick glance at his labor of pain and loss.
As for being stuck, do not let that bother you. Telling the story, especially parts like you just shared, will sometimes take a toll on you, and you will need a rest from your muses, much like Paul who was just sitting there keeping vigil. The thread of the story that is formulating itself inside your conscious and sub-conscious brain will pick it's own time for letting you know it's ready to move on.
Personally, I am eager for MOAR of this story, but you are doing such excellent work, I will content myself to wait for your next piece of heart gripping story telling.
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Post by spazzy on Nov 3, 2017 11:00:49 GMT -6
Agreed, very well done.
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Post by accountant on Nov 7, 2017 12:11:11 GMT -6
Chapter 5
“Paul, wake up. Paul! Wake up!”
Paul slowly open his eye. Why were they sore and stinging? He tried to focus on the voice but was having a hard time. What was going on?
“Paul, it’s me, Sam. Paul? Paul!”
Sam? Who was Sam? Oh yes, Sam was his next door neighbor.
“Hi Sam.” Paul was still groggy.
“Jesus, Paul. What the hell happened? Are you okay”
The fog began to lift from Paul’s head and he began to remember everything. He remembered the power going off, the planes crashing, the walking, the looking for Ana, finding Angie, bringing her home, and burying her. It all came crashing back.
“It’s all gone to crap, Sam. Everything is finished. Ana’s gone and Angie…Angie’s…”
Paul couldn’t control himself and started sobbing softly.
“Let’s get you inside.”
Sam pulled him up and helped him across the backyard to Sam’s house.
“Pam! I need your help with Paul.”
Sam and Pam were a young couple who had moved in next door to Paul and Ana five years ago. They were both realtors and had made their money in the booming Toronto real estate market. Working together, they had built up a sizable client base and their catchy billboards could be seen all over the city. “Sell your house and buy your home with Pam and Sam” was their slogan.
Pam helped Sam bring Paul into the kitchen and sit him down in a chair. She quickly brought a wet towel and began wiping Paul’s face and hands. Sam brought a bottle of water and put it to Paul’s lips. Paul drank it down not realizing how thirsty he was. The interaction with other human beings was helpful but it wasn’t enough to get him over his misery.
“Paul, what happened? Do you know anything?” Pam asked.
“It’s bad, Pam. It’s really bad.”
Since Paul had known them, Sam and Pam had been pretty happy and carefree. They had done well in the real estate game and were enjoying their life. They always had the latest electronic gadgets, drove the latest high end Beemers, and went on vacation three times every year. They had decided to hold off on having children until they were financially more secure and more relaxed. In the meantime, they were working hard and playing hard. At the same time, Paul knew they were good people. Even though they had more than Paul and Ana, the couple wasn’t arrogant about it. When Paul was finishing the basement on his own, Sam was more than happy to lend a hand. When Angie had graduated from university, and they were throwing a party for her, Pam had insisted on helping with the decorations, food, and anything else that needed to be done. Paul told them about the EMP attack and the planes falling. He told them how he had walked to Ana’s work and tried to find her. He told them about looking for Angie, finding her, bring her home, and burying her in the backyard.
The young couple was dumbfounded with what they heard.
“What happens now?” asked Sam
Paul sighed deeply. He didn’t want to go over this with anyone. The shock could be too much. “What time is it?” he asked.
“We don’t know”, said Pam, “Our clocks stopped working and our cellphones don’t either”.
“I’m a little hungry. Do you think we can have some warm food? It was a little cold out in the backyard.”
“The stove is not working and neither is the microwave. Let me make some sandwiches while we talk”, said Sam as he got up from the table.
“Exactly”, explained Paul, “with no power, people won’t be able to use their electronics. Microwaves are dead, and so are electric stoves. Soon, the natural gas in the pipes will run out so gas stoves won’t work either. People with propane barbeques will still be able to use them to heat food, but once it is finished, that will be the end of that. Most people don’t have more than three days to a week of food and even less than that in water in their homes before they run out. You might be able to find grocery stores open for a while, but your credit cards and debit cards won’t work because the terminals won’t work. The stores will only be taking cash if they are open at all. Most people don’t carry cash any more so they won’t be able to buy anything anyways. Even if someone do have cash to buy food, they will need to be careful bringing it back to their homes. There will be a lot of hungry people around and if they see someone with food, they might either take it on the road or wait until that person gets home and take it then. Unfortunately, the water will stop soon too since the municipal pumps are pressurized electrically. You can forget about hot showers too since the hot water tank will have stopped heating the water. Luckily, this didn’t happen in the winter otherwise people would be freezing to death since the furnaces wouldn’t be working. This is just the first phase, I’m afraid.”
Paul took a sip of water and allowed the severity of the situation sink in.
“But won’t the government do something?”, asked Pam.
“Yes, the government will try. Locally, the police will try to send officers to some of the major grocery stores to try and keep order and stop looters from smashing stores, but since none of the police cars will work, they can only be at a limited number of places and won’t be able to stop all the looting. Desperate people will do desperate things especially when they and their families are hungry. With Toronto burning and lots of people hungry, the police won’t be able to do much.
At this point we don’t know how far this EMP attack hit. We don’t know if it was just one shot at Toronto or if it affected any other areas as well. Personally, I don’t see any reason to just hit Toronto. I’m pretty sure this is affecting all of Canada and the US. If it was just Toronto, we would have seen trucks and personnel coming in from CFB Borden up near Barrie, but I didn’t see any on my way down to Toronto or back. I’m pretty sure their CO would have ordered them to come down here to help but it’s a long slow march down from the base.
Once the military personnel get down here, the first thing they will do is secure the food depots and warehouses in the areas. The next will be setting up food and water distribution for the people who need it. I don’t think they will be set up here in Brampton as the majority of the food warehouses are closer to Toronto and Mississauga so we will be out of luck. Before they get here though, the smart gangs will have taken control of the warehouses and started moving it the food and water by hand to locations that they control. The other places that the gangs will hit will be the pharmacies. They will all take the narcotics and opioids since that is their trade, but the smart ones will also take insulin and other drugs that people need to survive. Once word gets out that the only place to get these life saving drugs is through the gangs, they will start to bleed the people dry for everything that they have. Once the military realizes that the food in the warehouses will run out sooner than later and no re-supply coming, they will stop the handouts to the civilians. They will do door to door searches looking for any food and water that civilians have stashed and to find the food that the gangs have stolen. There will be firefights and good people will die in these battles along with the bad people. In a city of 5 million people and no food, things will get worse and worse. People will be dying in the streets of starvation. There’s an old adage that says to remember the rule of three. A person can only survive three minutes without air, three days without water, and three weeks without food. I suspect that we will see a die off of a portion of the population at the 6 week mark.”
“Are you saying that most of the people in this area will die of starvation?”, asked Sam.
“No, I’m saying that some of the people in Toronto will die of starvation. Some will stay with the gangs and survive that way. Others, and that will be the vast majority, will start moving looking for a safe place and food. Some will go east towards Kingston and the Thousand Islands and probably head south into the US there. The vast majority will head west towards the Golden Horseshoe region and Niagara Falls. Since this is the area with major winery and fruit growers, the horde will go there looking for food. The problem is that this is March and none of the fruits and grapes are in season so they will either continue to head west or south into the US from Niagara Falls. Some will head north towards us since there are farms up north too. They’ll loot and scavenge what they can until they get to the farms. Then, they will destroy the farms looking for food and move on.”
“What do we do, Paul”, asked Sam.
“Don’t your parents have a farm just north of Guelph?”
“Yes, they have a small hobby farm where they raise some dairy cows and beef cattle.”
“Well I suggest that you two pack up some food and clothes and head up there as soon as you can. It will be a lot safe there than here and they will need your help. Without power, they won’t be able to milk the cows twice a day alone manually by themselves or take care of the other cattle, but also they will need some security for when the starving horde comes.”
Pam had been sitting quietly listening to all the information that Paul was dispensing to them.
“Paul, I’m scared. How much time do we have before this horde you are talking about gets here?”
Paul sighed. He was scared too.
“I’d estimate that we have a two weeks max before the looters come, but I don’t know for sure. You will want to be at the farm before that.”
The table was quiet for a while as everyone contemplated these words.
The Pam asked, “What about Shawna?”
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Post by accountant on Nov 7, 2017 15:33:59 GMT -6
Chapter 6
Paul had not thought about Shawna since the planes started dropping. He had been so engulfed by what was happening around him that he didn’t have a chance to think about his younger daughter.
Shawna has born exactly three and a half years to the day after Angie was born and her birthday was exactly two weeks after Ana’s and two weeks before Paul’s. People would say that she was “an accident”, but Paul knew that Shawna always did things in her own way and that stubbornness included the day she picked to arrive. While Angie had made Paul and Ana parents, Shawna had made their family complete and perfect. As a child she always had a smile on her face and was happiest when she was following her big sister around. She was the perfect complement to Angie. Where Angie was excitable and fiery, Shawna was calm and peaceful. As they both grew up, Angie was a lot like Ana, while Shawna was a carbon-copy of Paul. She had not only Paul’s eyes and hair color, but also his inquisitive mind, singing talent, and mechanical inclinations. She was always his helper whenever things needed to be fixed around the house. She was there when he changed the light fixtures, installed the dishwasher, and fixed the garage door after Ana had accidentally backed into it causing a large dent. Along with handing her dad the tools, as he needed them, she asked questions trying to understand why and how things were put together.
As Shawna grew older, Paul and Ana also saw that there were many sides to her personality which needed to be balanced. She could be easygoing and carefree at times, but she could also be stubborn and would stick to her convictions if she felt she was right. She was sensitive and caring for others but could be hurt very easily. She could be the life of a party, but she also needed her quiet solitude as well. Yes, she was just like her dad.
Paul leaned forward and put his head into his hands. It was starting to become overwhelming. He was here, Ana and Angie were gone, and he didn’t know what was happening with Shawna. She was 150 miles away but it was the same as being a thousand miles away. He needed time to think.
“I don’t know. I don’t know if she is safe or not. I don’t even know if she is alive.”, Paul responded to Pam. “I need some time to think.”
“What can we do for you?”, asked Sam.
“There’s not much you can do for me right now, but I suggest that you get started on the packing so that you can get to the farm as quickly and safely as possible. It won’t be safe here soon. I’m going to go home and think.”
Pam came over to Paul and gave him a hug. Sam shook Paul’s hand and gave him a hug as well.
“We’ll come over later”, he said quietly.
Paul left the house through the back door and crossed the backyard to his own property. He walked over to Angie’s grave and sat down. His head was spinning with all the thoughts running through it at the same time. Was Shawna okay? Was Shawna alive? Was she safe? Who was she with? Would they have food and water? Should he go find her? Would she come back here? Would she be able to come back here safely if she could? Who would she come back with if she came back? Would he be able to keep the house safe for her if she did find her way back? What if she came back while he was gone to look for her? What if she didn’t make it back?
“I don’t know what to do”, Paul spoke softly to the grave, “You’re safe with your mom but I don’t know what to do for your sister. What do I do? She’s all alone there without me and I’m all alone here without her. What do I do?”
Paul sat there for a long time, waiting. He waited for any kind of sign, and kind of acknowledgement that the universe had heard his tortured pain. But nothing came, no sign, no acknowledgement. The only sounds were those of the birds chirping in the trees and the branches swaying in the breeze.
Paul felt the old anger and bitterness coming back to the surface.
“Fine”, he thought to himself, “If God and the universe won’t help me figure it out, I’ll do it myself.”
The old bitterness was back but without the fear that used to accompany it. Now dogged determination and practicality replaced the old fear. There was no screaming in his head only the unemotional logic and detailed focus of an accountant.
Paul knew what he had to do.
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Post by accountant on Nov 7, 2017 16:11:02 GMT -6
Chapter 7
Paul went into the house and into the en suite bathroom adjacent to the master bedroom. Stripping off his dirt and ash-laden clothes, he quickly took a shower using only cold water. The cold water energized his skin and he scrubbed himself clean with soap and shampoo. It didn’t do much to help with the soreness of his muscles, but Paul didn’t care. Turning off the water, he wrapped a towel around himself and walked over to the double sink. A feeling of sadness came over him when he saw Ana’s electric toothbrush in its charger stand. Paul forcefully pushed that feeling out of his mind. Aggressively, almost to prove a point to himself, Paul grabbed his own electric toothbrush and brushed his teeth. “I might as well use it while it still has a charge”, he thought.
As he rinsed the toothpaste from his mouth, he noticed that the water pressure was less than normal.
“Right on time.”, he thought to himself.
Paul went to the walk-in closet and picked out some fresh clothes to wear. Being clean and wearing fresh clothes always helped him to think clearly.
He walked down to the office and sat down behind the large executive desk. Getting out a large pad of paper, he took a pen. On the top of the page he wrote “Shawna walking home” . Paul then put a large line down the middle of the page. On the top of the left side of the page, he wrote “Assets”, and on the right side he wrote “Liabilities”. Under Assets, Paul made a list of the things that would help Shawna to get home. The list included food and water (she had plenty in her dorm room), warm clothes (she still had all her winter clothes there), a group to travel with (there were a few students from the Brampton/Mississauga/Toronto area at Western that Shawna knew, good footwear (she had her sneakers and light winter boots), a basic direction to come home, her problem solving mind, and her stubbornness. Under Liabilities, his list included no defensive weaponry and time.
Paul ripped that sheet off the pad and put that off to one side. He then started a similar sheet titled “Shawna stays put and waits”. Under Assets he wrote food and water, warm clothes, shelter. Under Liabilities he wrote possibly being left alone, looters, gangs.
Paul ripped off this sheet from the pad as well and pushed the pad away while bringing the other list forward. He carefully reviewed each list and thought about what Shawna would do. Being in Engineering, he knew that this was a problem that she would try to figure out as well. Would she walk home or would she stay to be rescued? She would be asking herself the same questions and using her mind to work out the answer. Knowing Shawna and how her brain worked, Paul decided that the highest probability was that Shawna would be walking home.
Now that he had that in his mind, he calculated how long it would take her to walk home. First it would take about a week for her and others to come to the realization that they would need to walk back home and to make the necessary preparations. Paul also knew that it was 150 miles from Western to their Brampton home. He knew that the average person walked at a rate of three miles per hour. Since Shawna would have a larger pack and be travelling in a group, he decided to reduce that to two miles per hour. Given that the group would be walking for ten hours a day that meant they would cover roughly twenty miles a day. If she walked straight through, she could potentially be home after eight days of walking. He decided to add an additional four days for unforeseen circumstances to arise. That meant that Shawna could be home in nineteen days or less than three weeks since the EMP attack.
The numbers and calculations helped to bring a sense of order back to Paul’s head. The idea of Shawna coming home was like a beacon of light in the darkness of tragedy that he was enduring. Now that he knew he was going to be staying at the house, he needed to prepare for what was to come. Paul knew that the looters and gangs would be coming in about two weeks, but first he would need to prepare for the neighbours.
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Post by papaof2 on Nov 7, 2017 16:35:04 GMT -6
Meghan??
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Post by accountant on Nov 8, 2017 12:42:21 GMT -6
Oops.
Thanks papaof2. I forgot to change the name to protect the innocent. I have fixed it.
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Post by kaijafon on Nov 9, 2017 18:28:30 GMT -6
Thank you !!! looking forward to some MOAR!!!!
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Post by accountant on Nov 13, 2017 14:02:10 GMT -6
Hi all,
This next chapter will seem a little boring and tedious but I wanted to include some of the little things that a person would need to contend with once the collapse occurs. Dealing with a freezer full of thawing food and little to no water isn't exciting or action packed, but it's something we would all have to do something about when "it" happens.
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Chapter 8
Paul took his pad of paper and went to the kitchen to take an inventory of his food.
He opened the bottom mount freezer and made a list on the pad.
Ice about 3 litres (half melted) – good for drinking
2 half-frozen pizzas - These would be eaten first
3 cans of semi frozen concentrated fruit punch – mix with ice water to drink
1 pound lean ground beef – should be cooked as soon as possible
Half a bottle of Grey Goose vodka
2 sirloin steaks – thawing – should be cooked
Half a box of frozen chicken nuggets – about 16
Half a package of bacon
Half a tub of red velvet ice cream
1 package frozen corn – should cook this
1 package frozen okra – yucky
1 package frozen peas – more yucky
2 packages of Stouffer’s Salisbury steak lunches – should this be eaten first?
He quickly closed the freezer after making his list, and opened the fridge to make an inventory of what was in there.
1 and half loaves of whole wheat bread
2 litres of 2% milk
1 litre of orange juice
1 litre of fruit punch from concentrate
Half a bottle of chardonnay
2 pounds of salted butter
Half a pound of unsalted butter
2 cups of cooked rice and veggies
Half a pan of lasagna
4 eggs
2 tomatoes
1 orange sweet pepper
2 things of garlic
Half an onion
Half a bottle of ketchup
Half a bottle of mustard
Third of a bottle of HP sauce
An empty bottle of relish
An almost finished bottle of barbeque sauce
Full bottle of hot sauce
A quarter bottle of lemon juice
A bottle of Worcestershire sauce
Half a container of vegetable soup base
Half a bottle of strawberry jam
Almost a full small bottle of apple jelly
A bag of old dried out baby carrots
Half a head of lettuce
1 thing of ginger root
Now that Paul had his list of perishable food, he needed to make a meal plan so that he could use up the food as it was about to go bad.
He decided that he would eat the frozen lunches first since they wouldn’t keep. The ground beef would be turned into four hamburger patties with the onion, and the barbeque sauce, he would chop up the steak and mix it with the rest of the onion, the sweet pepper, corn, okra (yuck), and peas (more yuck) to make a stew, and the frozen pizzas would be cooked and stored for later. The bacon would be cooked and added to the burgers and eaten as part of breakfast. The chicken nuggets would be tossed since he didn’t trust himself not to get sick from under-cooking.
Paul looked out the window. By the angle of the sun, he could tell that it was now about 4 o’clock in the afternoon. He didn’t have much time if he wanted to get everything cooked before nightfall. Going out on the deck, he wheeled over the large barbeque close to the door. Luckily, he had run out of propane late in October and had to replace the tank so it was almost full. Turning on the gas, he lit the pilot with the barbeque lighter he always kept in the storage compartment. Turning all three burners to medium low, he closed the lid to let it warm up and burn off any cobwebs and other things that had gotten into the barbeque over the winter.
While the barbeque warmed up, he decided his meal plan for the next few days. Tonight it would be two packages of Stouffer’s frozen Salisbury steak for dinner. Tomorrow’s breakfast would be the bacon and bread with strawberry jam. Lunch would be two hamburgers with bacon, lettuce, and tomatoes. Dinner would be one portion of stew. The day after that breakfast would be the two remaining hamburgers, lunch would be the rice and veggies, and dinner would be the rest of beef stew. He would deal with whatever was left after that.
Seeing that the temperature of the barbeque had reached 400 degrees, Paul took out the two frozen pizzas, ripped off the packaging and put them both on the grill and closed the lid again. He knew he didn’t have much time before the pizzas were ready and didn’t want to waste the heat so he quickly chopped the onion and mixed it with the ground beef, and barbeque sauce to make four patties.
By the time patties were ready for the grill, the pizzas were cooked and Paul took them off and put patties down. Taking the pizzas back inside, he cut them into six pieces each and let them cool. This would give him an additional two meals. Paul then got out the cast iron frying pan and placed the strips of bacon in them. He took them out to the grill just in time to turn the patties and close the lid.
Rather than go back inside and get started on the stew ingredients, Paul decided to stay on the deck. From the railing, he had a good view of Angie’s grave, the garden shed, the ravine, and the smoke on the horizon coming from the burning mass that used to be Toronto.
“How did it all come to this?”, he thought to himself, “Who did the government tick off that much that this would happen? Was it the Canadian government or the US government? Was Canada just collateral damage? Was his family just collateral damage?”
The sound of bacon popping brought him back to the here and now. He opened the barbeque lid just in time to pull the burgers off before they were too burnt to eat. Using the steel spatula, he also scrapped the bottom of the frying pan to get all the flavor on the bottom back to the bacon strips. The smell of the bacon and burgers made him hungry for a bacon burger, but he had to resist the temptation if he was going to make his food last as long as possible.
Once the bacon was ready, Paul plated it, turned the heat down on the barbeque but left the frying pan there. He brought the bacon inside and took the frozen lunches out of the freezer, opening them on his way back to the deck. Once outside, he slid the two Salisbury steaks along with the sauce into the frying pan to cook. The mashed potatoes would not be eaten as they may have gone bad.
Paul went back inside and got the two steaks out of the freezer and chopped them on the same cutting board he had used for the onion. He also chopped up the half sweet pepper on the same cutting board. Taking another plate, he went out to the deck and took both, now fully cooked, Salisbury steaks out of the frying pan and replaced them with the steaks, onion, and sweet pepper. Now that his dinner was ready, he brought it inside to cool. He took the corn, okra, and peas out of the freezer and took them to the barbeque and added them to the steak and other veggies. At that point, he decided to change his plan and prepare a stir-fry instead of stew. Paul went back inside, got the bottle of HP sauce, the Worcestershire sauce, and the bottle of lemon juice from the fridge along with other spices from the spice cabinet. Soon the stir-fry was sizzling in the bacon grease and more meals were ready. After plating the stir-fry, Paul turned off the barbeque, and left the frying pan there to cool.
Taking the plate inside, he looked around his kitchen. He had two plates with pizzas on them, one plate with burgers on it, one plate with bacon on it, one plate of dinner for tonight, one plate with stir fry, one dirty bowl from the burger mixture, and one dirty cutting board. He had the empty pizza boxes and wrappings, the empty frozen lunch boxes and dirty containers with potato mush, and the emplty bags of peas, corn, and orka to contend with. He also had the frying pan outside and other utensils than needed cleaning. It was a bit of a mess and he suddenly realized that he didn’t have any more running water to clean all this with.
Feeling hungry, Paul didn’t want to deal with dirty dishes at that point and sat down at the breakfast bar to dig into his dinner for the evening. At the second bite, he realized that it tasted a little weird, but decided to keep eating.
“No use wasting cooked food”, he thought to himself.
Feeling parched, he went to the fridge and poured himself a glass of orange juice. Taking the first sip and finding it bitter, he promptly poured the rest of the glass down the sink along with the rest of the carton, and the milk in the fridge as well. So no juice and no milk to drink. Going to the pantry, he got himself a can of Coke to drink with his meal.
“Good old Coke. It never goes bad”
Now that he had eaten, it was time to pack up all the food he had cooked. Since the pizzas were cool now, he put them into four Ziploc sandwich bags. That was four meals. He did the same with the burgers, two to a bag. That was two meals. The bacon also went into another Ziploc bag. That was maybe two side dishes. He put all the stir-fry into a large Tupperware container. That was possibly three more meals if he stretched it.
Soon, everything was packed up and returned to the now not cold freezer. Paul still had to deal with the dirty dishes and garbage from all the cooking. He wiped down the plates that weren’t too dirty with paper towels and put the others in the sink along with the cutting board, utensils, dirty bowls, and dirty glass of juice. Luckily, there was still some cold water coming through the tap so Paul quickly washed and rinsed the dishes. He then put the cardboard and plastic wrap in the recycling bin in the garage and threw the rest of the garbage into the garbage can under the sink. Taking the used paper towels, he used that to wipe down the cast iron frying pan and threw the paper towel in the garbage under the sink. The kitchen was back to semi-decent shape.
By this time, it was starting to get dark. Paul knew he would need some a light source to keep him from tripping over things in the dark. He dug around the cupboards and found the package of 50 scented tea lights that Ana had bought last year during the after-Christmas sales. Ripping it open, Paul placed one on a coaster and lit it with the barbeque lighter. The light was fairly dim coming off just that one tea light. Paul knew he would have to do something to increase the light without burning the house down. He grabbed a plastic red solo cup from the cabinet next to the fridge and using scissors, cut the cup in half down the middle leaving the base intact so that he had half a cup which would stand up by itself. Paul then took a roll of aluminium foil from a cupboard. Tearing off a piece, he placed it, reflective side showing, into the half cup and flattened the bottom. He took another tea light and placed it into the half cup. Lighting it, Paul was now able to see better with the additional illumination and could not carry the light around with him.
It was then that Paul heard a knock on the deck door. Looking up through the glass window in the door, he saw Sam and Pam standing there. Sam was carrying a lit candle in a hurricane lamp. Paul opened the door and asked them to come inside.
“How are you holding up?”, asked Pam.
“I’m trying not to think about things right now.”, said Paul, “I’m just focusing on what needs to be done. What have you guys decided?”
“With almost no water coming out of the pipes, it’s going to be hard to stay here.”, said Sam “We have decided to take your advice and head to my parent’s place. What have you decided?”
“I am hoping that Shawna makes it back here. I figure that is what she would do. I have to get the place ready for when she gets here.”
“Paul, are you sure? Western is a long ways away.”
“No, I’m not sure, but that’s the only hope I have left. If I go out looking for her and I miss her while she’s on her way here, well that would be the worst scenario. She wouldn’t be able to hole up here by herself for very long.”
Sam and Pam gave each other a knowing glance.
“Paul, even if Shawna does make it back, what are you going to do? How are you going to survive if everything you’ve told us is true?”, asked Sam hesitantly.
“I don’t know. I don’t know what we are going to do. I just know that we will be together and we will find a way. We have to.”
“We understand. You, Ana, and the girls have been good friends since we moved here. You and Shawna are always welcome to come and stay with us at the farm if things get too bad here.”
“I appreciate that, Sam, and we may just take you up on that offer.”
“Paul, why don’t you come and stay with us for the night. We know that this has been rough on you and we don’t want you to be alone tonight.”
“Thank you Pam. I appreciate it. I really do. It may sound silly, but I’m not alone. Angie is here and I want to keep her company again tonight.”
“We understand completely,” said Pam, “We are right next door if you need anything.”
“We are planning to leave tomorrow morning and I might need your help with a few things before we go. Do you think you might have time to give us a hand?”, ask Sam.
“Sure, I’ll come by tomorrow.”
“Thanks Paul. By the way, John Rockwood was going around to all the houses earlier today. He said that he wanted to have a meeting to discuss the situation. It’s going to be held in his driveway at noon tomorrow.”, said Sam as he and Pam exited through the deck door. “Thanks Sam. I appreciate the heads up.”
Paul went out on the deck and watched his favourite neighbours leave. They were good people. Unfortunately, he couldn’t say the same for the other eight families that lived on their quiet street.
The meeting announcement was just what he expected from John. Paul was interested to seeing how John went about making himself the leader of their little enclave tomorrow.
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