Geoff North - How the World Ends

“What’s the name of that fishing lodge he’s taking us to again?”

“Odin Lake.” Caitlan took her hands off the steering wheel and shook her fists at the sky. “All powerful god of the north,” She thumped them down lightly on the wheel. “He’s the white-bearded asshole that makes it snow and calls lightning from the clouds.”

Michael leaned forward. “Thor’s the god of thunder. Odin’s his dad.”

“How much of our conversation did you hear?” Angela asked.

“The whole thing,” Amanda answered. “Zombies aren’t all that scary. They move all stiff and jerky, and they’re really slow.”

A shiver ran up Angela’s spine. Not the ones Hayden and Dr. Gill saw.

Fred was driving the Buick. They had just refuelled both vehicles from a farmer’s outdoor tanks on the outskirts of a small town called Baskerville. They’d explored a shed next to the tanks and found a wide roll of clear plastic. Its original purpose was likely meant to protect flowers and vine-growing vegetables during frosty nights, but Fred figured it could serve well enough as a replacement windshield. They sealed it along the edges with a roll of packing tape. The view was a little warped, but it was better than sucking air at speeds over fifty miles an hour.

“My Dad took me to Odin Lake when I was fourteen,” Hayden said as they headed further along Highway 10. “It’s about as far north as you can go on four wheels. Any further than that and you pretty much have to charter a plane.”

“Never heard of it,” the old doctor replied. He looked in the rear view mirror to see if the Audi was still following. It was. “I visited Churchill back in the late eighties. That’s when there were still plenty of polar bears in the area to make it a decent tourist attraction. Swore to myself I’d never travel a single mile north of Brayburne after that. The bears were okay, but goddamn it, I can’t stand the cold.”

“And here you are breaking your promise. Sorry about that.”

“Don’t be. Odin Lake isn’t as far north as Churchill, but I’m betting it will get plenty cold in the next few months… cold enough to keep those things away, hopefully.” Fred sighed. “What was the fishing like?”

“I don’t remember. We never went hungry the week we were there, so I guess it can’t be all that bad. A couple of retired school teachers ran the lodge located on an island out on the lake. The place is big, and they had it stocked with enough firewood to get through the coldest of winters. Nice people. I hope they’re still there.”

“I just hope they take us in.”

Hayden went quiet. They had been nice people two decades ago—to paying customers. God only knew how they’d react when seven strangers showed up at their front door expecting accommodations for months instead of days. He pulled a road map of northern Saskatchewan and Manitoba out of the glove box. He spread it out across his lap and traced along their twisting highway with a finger. “I miss having a phone that can tell you routes and distances. If I had to guess, I’d say it’ll take another ten or twelve hours before we arrive—and that’s only if we can find another town or farm to re-fill the cars.”

“We’ll find gas, I’m not worried about that.”

Hayden folded the map back up. They travelled in silence for another twenty minutes along the twisting highway surrounded by forests. The farther they went, the more rugged and wild the terrain became. They slipped by silent lakes enclosed within ancient mountain ranges so old they were now only considered rolling hills. We can live off this land , Hayden thought. So long as the poison in the air doesn’t destroy it first.

Nicholas stirred in the back seat. He’d been sleeping for the last four hours, and two hundred miles. Hayden turned and reached back to adjust the blanket over his legs. The boy woke up and smiled. “We there yet?”

Hayden returned the smile. “Not yet, pal. We’ll make a few stops along the way, get out and stretch our legs, and before you know it, we’ll be there.”

“Are we really going to camp on an island?”

“You bet. We’ll have to park the cars and row a couple of canoes just to get there.”

“No motor boats at Odin Lake?” Fred asked.

“None that I can recall.”

“Don’t go putting a damn paddle in my hands when we get there.”

Nicholas scolded him. “Don’t swear, Mr. Gill. I hear enough bad words from Caitlan.”

“Sorry, son.” Fred looked back into the rear view mirror and grinned at the boy. The smile faded quickly from his face when he saw the Audi was no longer following.

They had arrived at a potash mine—one of the biggest in the world—sitting half a dozen miles north of the Canada-US border. The industrialized mill topside was the size of a small town all on its own. It was a metal conglomeration of refining buildings, processing plants, storage bins, and heavy machinery garages.

“Welcome to Odessa, boys.” Fiona jumped off of the ATV and pointed her rifle straight into Roy’s face. “No more stupid shit, okay, Piggy?” Roy remained silent and still. She glanced at Louie, but kept the weapon on the other man. “What about you, skinny? You’ve behaved up to this point… you going to try something heroic while I unlock the gate?”

“No, ma’am.”

Grace turned and levelled a hand gun in their direction anyway as Fiona went to the ten-foot high chain-link fence barring their way. She produced a key from inside one of her heavy gloves and slipped it inside a padlock the size of Roy’s fist. Fiona swung the gate open and Grace drove the ATV through.

“What is that?” Louie asked as they proceeded down a service road towards the mill’s main building. He was pointing to the gigantic mountain of dull orange directly behind the facility.

“That’s the leftovers you get after fifty years of drilling like worms a mile underground,” Fiona said.

It had to be over a two miles wide and more than five-hundred feet high. Louie could see dozens of diagonal trails winding up the sides of the man-made mountain where more recent dumps had been deposited. He had always thought the earth removed from the ground to plant Winnipeg’s Disease Study Center was a staggering amount, but it paled in comparison to this monstrosity. “My God, I bet they can see this thing from space.” Nobody answered him.

They went past an empty security booth, drove across an almost empty staff parking lot the size of a football field, and finally came to a stop in front of a large storage building. Fiona cut the rope behind Roy’s back. “Make yourself useful. Grab an armload of supplies and head on in.”

Grace slid a giant door open and stood off to one side as Fiona made the men carry everything from the back of the ATV into the dark building. When they had finished she pulled an empty pallet on a hand-jack out from the shadows and instructed them to reload everything neatly onto it.

Roy grumbled. “You could’ve had us put this shit directly onto the pallet without making us lift everything twice.”

“You can use the exercise.”

They did as they were told as the women removed their cumbersome protective suits. Fiona locked the big door from the inside and flipped a switch up on a panel set into the wall. A dozen red emergency lights flickered on thirty feet above their heads. She instructed Roy to pull the jack after them towards the far end of the cavernous room. Louie had to help Roy push the jack up a slight incline the last ten feet. They parked their load in front of a large rectangular iron grate built into the wall.

Louie stuck his fingers through the holes and leaned forward. A rush of cool air from below washed over his face.