WHITE SPRUCE Chapter 1
This story got stuck in my head after a long weekend at a cottage near Barry's Bay (near Pembroke, Ontario, if you're interested). It takes place in the future, but I wouldn't characterize it as sci-fi. Thanks once again to my editors, Alianath Iriad and Lastman416.
*****
White Spruce Golf and Country Club, August 3, 2162
It was dark as hell - I remember that. There was quite a bit of cloud cover, and only a quarter moon. We had the headlights on our cart, and there were the warning lights atop the perimeter fence, of course, but they didn't provide much illumination.
There were just so many trees... trees to line the edge of the rough on the North Course, and then trees to hide the perimeter road and fence from view. More trees to hide the massive K-Vat batteries (which powered pretty much the whole facility), or the warehouses and helipads in the northeast corner. None of our golfers would want to see these reminders of the outside world while they were failing to repair their divots or lining up their approach shots on the 15th or 16th fairways.
But my partner and I weren't thinking about golf that night. Instead, we had stopped on the perimeter road to investigate something strange.
I'd spotted it first: it looked like a large branch had fallen against the inside of the fence. But that was plainly impossible, because the brush and small trees had been clear cut. There wasn't a shrub over five feet tall within 10 metres of either side of the fence.
- "What the hell
is
that?' said Trey.
On closer inspection, I could see a second large piece of wood, leaning against the
outside
of the fence, in the same spot. "It looks like
two
branches." I said. "Wait - are they connected at the top?"
- "Holy shit, Mike. It's a fucking
ladder
!"
Trey was right. The two pieces were joined together. It was an ingenious device; they'd managed to climb over a 14-foot fence, topped with razor wire, without actually touching the fence itself at any point - which was very wise on their part, because it was electrified.
I immediately turned off the cart, and the headlights died. Trey and I quickly adjusted our night-vision headsets, and pulled our Van Gurens from their scabbards. We had side arms holstered on our belts, but this was clearly a situation that called for Smart Rifles.
The Van Guren was a PGF (precision-guided firearm) which instantly linked to our night-vision headsets. The rifle would 'see' what we saw, and would adjust our aim accordingly (while also taking into account factors such as wind, relative elevation, and intervening obstacles). Best of all, the Van Guren had
serious
stopping power. I'd never actually fired mine, outside of the range, but Trey swore that he'd dropped a black bear at 300 yards with a single round.
We weren't worried about bears at this point. Bears don't build ladders. But the Outsiders could - and if we had Outsiders inside the perimeter, then we had the potential for trouble. I didn't know if they were here to steal, or to vandalize, but it was our job to stop them before they did any damage, or hurt anybody.
First, though, I used my headset's communication app.
- "Perimeter breach. North perimeter road. Point 16, halfway between K-Vats and warehouses. Assist immediate. Perimeter breach. Assist immediate."
Help would be on the way. For the moment, though, Trey and I were on our own.
The view through the night-vision goggles was incredible. It was like being inside a really cool video game. We'd had plenty of practice wearing them, and learning to identify nocturnal creatures such as raccoons, badgers, and the occasional fox. Owls were the worst: they'd suddenly move, and go swooping across our field of vision. They scared the shit out of me.
But we were looking for bigger targets tonight. Human-sized targets.
Trey was scanning to the left. I took the right. I suddenly realized that I was sweating, even though it was a fairly cool night. My mouth was dry. This was real.
Then I saw it.
Him, I guess. Way too big for a raccoon. But still slender. A child? A woman? I remembered my training.
- "Target." I said.
- "TARGET!" yelled Trey. A moment later, he fired. I heard the sharp crack of his Van Guren.
I made the mistake of looking his way. I couldn't acquire his target - and when I whirled back to the right, I couldn't re-acquire mine.
- "Trey! What did you shoot at?"
- "Nailed it. Hit the sonovabitch for sure."
- "Why did you shoot?" I repeated. Our standing instructions were quite clear: IADE. Identify, Apprehend, Defend, Eliminate. Trey had jumped from I to E.
To this day, I can't tell you why I didn't tell Trey that I'd acquired another target. He never asked: he'd probably been too intent on his own target to hear what I'd said.
We moved left, towards the downed Outsider. I was continually glancing right, looking for the slender figure I'd spotted. There was no sign of it. Them?
- "Here!" called Trey.
He had indeed hit his target. It was a male, clad in worn blue jeans and a tattered light jacket. Trey's shot had hit him in the left shoulder. There was nothing left of that shoulder, or of the side of his chest. The male's arm had been completely severed. What was left of that appendage lay a few yards away. Death by massive trauma would have been instantaneous.
- "Told ya! Nailed 'im!"
We didn't find a weapon. The corpse - the male - had been unarmed. I felt sick to my stomach. Was that why I didn't tell Trey that I'd acquired a second target?
Our backups arrived - half a dozen security guards. Then more. Within 20 minutes, pretty much every member of security was there. Some had been at the pub, and were a little the worse for wear.
Every single one of them patted Trey on the back, shook his hand, or clapped him on the shoulder. Was I the only one who remembered the standing instructions?
- "Hell of a shot, Trey."
- "Nicely done."
- "It was Mike who spotted the ladder first." said Trey, sharing the credit with me.
- "Way to go, Mike." said Captain Stanton, the Head of Security.
- "There might be another one." I said. "Another Outsider."
The Captain frowned. "What makes you say that?"
I pointed at the ladder. "I doubt that this one guy alone was able to get that contraption over the fence." Why was I doing it this way? I could've simply said that I'd seen the second Outsider.
- "They're probably on the outside, waiting for him to come back." said Malcolm Lang, my former partner.
- "We can't take chances with Outsiders." said the Captain. "Full sweep."
It was exciting for our colleagues, at first, to be searching the perimeter for another intruder. They were probably hoping to be like Trey, to be the next one to take down an Outsider.
Trey and I didn't see anything larger than a raccoon. Neither did anyone else. After four hours, the Captain called it off. Many of the other Guards shot me a dirty look, blaming me for spoiling their night off.
After all of the commotion had died down, Trey and I resumed our patrol. I looked really carefully for any sign of the second outsider, but didn't see anything.
For some reason, I was... relieved. How that Outsider got back over the fence, I had no idea, but I was glad that we didn't find him - or her.
***
FIVE MONTHS EARLIER
My new partner was on the prowl. Trey had his eye on Sheila, one of the beer-cart girls. He kept sending her fresh drinks before she could even finish the one in front of her.
- "I'll bet she's a firecracker in the sack." he said.
Sheila tried a bit too hard, in my opinion. Way too much makeup. She ended up looking like a cheap slut - not that I would ever have dreamed of telling her so. Nor did I say anything to my partner.
After only a few weeks on the job together, I was finding Trey hard to take. He was opinionated, self-absorbed, and crude.
"I'm gonna pin her to the bed an' hump the ass right off of her."
That was enough for me. "I need to take a leak." I got up and went to the toilets. On my way back, I stopped at the bar to get myself a beer.
The Sand Trap was packed; there were quite a few more people than usual. Alicia, the waitress, passed me with a tray full of drinks. She was being run off her feet.
I went to the end of the bar, where Tess was pouring a draft.
Tess ran the bar - and she ran it well. She was shrewd, capable, and probably the best looking woman on this side of the golf course. She was at least twice my age, but that didn't stop dozens of guys (myself included, on several occasions) from hitting on her. She handled us all the same way: she turned us down flat. No nonsense, no uncertainty. She put us in our place, and then asked if we wanted a drink.
- "Busy night." I remarked.
- "It is." she agreed. "Full moon, I suppose."
I didn't quite know what to make of that.
- "Umm... I'll have one of those drafts, if you don't mind." I said.
- "Can do. Listen, Mike: I don't know if you've noticed, but Alicia can barely keep up. How about I put this draft on the house, if you'll deliver this tray of drinks to that booth in the corner?"
- "Sounds good to me." Free beer? Check. A request from Tess? Double check.
She placed my draft on the tray, and pointed me on my way.
There were three young women in the corner booth. I knew two of them.
Anne was a blue-eyed blonde with wavy hair, who worked in the medical clinic. She had a nervous smile which made me a little uncomfortable, and a hairy mole to the left of her nose which was hard to ignore. Anne often got a slightly manic expression in her eyes, and her laugh was downright awful; it could set your teeth on edge. She also tended to laugh loudly at the wrong times.
Nicole was tiny. She was short, and skinny. She had bright green eyes, which were her best feature. Okay, her only good feature. Nicole had a huge forehead. She also didn't have much of a chin, which made the bottom half of her face seem completely out of proportion to the rest of her.
To make matters worse, Nicole's long, dark hair was scraggly and unkempt. To be honest, she looked a bit like a witch. That wasn't entirely fair, because she had a nice personality. She worked in the laundry, as far as I knew.
The third woman was new to me.
- "Your drinks, ladies." I said. "Who gets the draft?"
- "That's mine." said Nicole.
- "The gin and tonic?"
- "Here." said Anne, with a giggle.
- "So the red wine...?"
- "That would be mine." said the third woman.
- "Mike," said Nicole, "this is Claire. She's new. Claire, this is Mike. He's in Perimeter Security."
- "Oh. So you're the ones who -"
- "They keep us safe." said Anne. "They protect us from the Outsiders."
