Anti-assimilation army: A Spark

Chapter 1

Preparing for the Worst

All around the bustling Vancouver Metropolitan Area, frantic people made last-minute dashes to get essential foods, toiletries and common household goods as news of an imminent American invasion quickly spread across the province. Cross-border travel was essentially non-existent, with vital supply chains cut off on both sides of the 49th Parallel. American companies had been given the warning to evacuate their Canadian locations, uprooting the synergistic partnership between them and their, now antagonistic, Canadian customers. While both Canada and the United States are the largest trading partner with the other, Canada’s utter dependency on America for many crucial processed and manufactured goods meant that an embargo would cripple the fragile Canadian economy worse than the reciprocal effect on the US, which is by-far more diverse in its supply chains.

The pitiful few war boats that were stationed at the naval base in Esquimalt prepared to face the onslaught and full force of the American Pacific fleet. Many First Nations’ groups secretly made peace talks with the Americans, agreeing not to fight for the Canadians, given that they are promised and guaranteed safety for their people and tribes. Other Canadians took to the last few ships sailing away from Canada, leaving it behind and heading for safer countries to stay as refugees. Some, living in rural areas prepared to leave their small towns and to hide in the wilderness, having to make a meagre living by harvesting what they could from nature itself. Many social and political groups persistently begged the federal government to make a deal with the aggressive US, to keep the peace no matter what flag or colour would be carried on their shoulders. Defectors all across the nation were leaving Canada and turning themselves in to the Americans, who in turn, promised them safety from the imminent bloodshed that seemed frustratingly unavoidable. 

One such family on the run were the Lees, making their way north towards the population-barren but safe wilderness of British Columbia. Packed in their car was a portable radio, tent, survival gear and some other necessities, which Brian took with his wife Samantha and two teenage sons. Together they set off away from the urban centre of Vancouver, since to stay in the city, or even its suburbs, would risk them being caught in the danger zone. Brian knew that hiding out in the vast rain forests of their province would be the safest option other than being cowards and turning themselves in to the invaders. 

He turned on the radio, and was in shock of what was actually about to happen, as it was something they thought would never occur in Canada.

“People are being told to stay in their houses as the threat from the American army is increasing all along the 49th Parallel and continues to grow, bolstered by reports of tanks, lightly armoured vehicles, and helicopter gunships. The Canadian army is asking all citizens to limit their use of cellular phones to save bandwidth for military use, and that anyone over the age of sixteen to volunteer and serve with the army’s reserve and volunteer core. They are also asking people to stay calm, stay safe and stay alert for more instructions.”

Brian turned off the car radio and quickly glanced over at Samantha’s frightened and pale face; clearly wiping out her fear on her sleeve. In a comforting gesture, Brian took hold of her hand as if symbolically assuring her that he had full confidence that everything would be alright. Her hand felt cold and clammy, shivering despite the heaters in the car being on. As their SUV’s headlamps cut through the suffocating darkness around them, they continued to head north, hoping to reach Garibaldi Provincial Park by midnight, where they would camp for the evening. Having been there several times for his sons’ class field trips, Brian knew the area was close enough to the highway in case a quick retreat was needed, yet it was remote enough to avoid unwanted attention.

Several hours later, parked in the parking lot, both wife and sons were fast asleep, and so Brian decided to quietly drift off to sleep in the car as well, making sure to lock the automatic doors before reclining his leather seat lower to a more comfortable position. While they rested their weary and panic-stricken bodies, they trusted that the remoteness of the forest would somehow protect them from the threatening Americans, who seemed poised to invade at any time. 

As the sun creeped over the mountainous horizon, the first golden rays of daylight shined through the car’s windows, causing the family stir from their slumber. First to wake up fully with a giant yawn was Brian, who picked the offending pieces of sand from his eyes and flicked them away carelessly. As he sat up, he caught sight of his wedding ring glimmering in the sun as he reached to rub his temples which were throbbing as the blood rushed out of his brain. He could remember choosing the ring with Samantha at the expensive but prestigious jewelry store, nearly fifteen years ago. Little did they expect to be running away from their American neighbours to the south, and stuck in a military conflict between the two vast countries.

As he exited the stuffy car into the crisp cold morning air outside, Brian did a full-extension stretch after being stuck in the driver’s seat for eight grueling hours. Noticing another vehicle that had also decided to stay in the wilderness area’s parking lot, he walked over to the car as he heard his bickering kids and wife waking up behind him.

Brian walked towards the car and the man inside opened the door, offering a handshake to Brian, who was slightly relieved that the stranger was a friendly. 

“The name’s Chris, and I’m the division leader in charge of this area. Part of the Anti-Assimilation Army.” He patted his rifle strapped to his back as he professionally answered Brian’s questions of what the AAA stood for and if they were endorsed by the Canadian military.

“We’re technically not a unit in the army, but we’re a group of specially-trained guerilla units set up in our home turf or wherever the army needs us most. During the course of this war, we’ll be hampering the Americans as best we can, while recruiting more volunteers.”

“Do you know of any safe spots for families to take shelter in? I can probably stay in this park till the propane and food runs out, but what would you suggest our family do?”

“I’d get a guide book on living out in the land and memorize it. Supplies will be scarce once the invasion occurs, so you’d best learn to live off nature…at least for as long as the war drags on.”

Smiling in thanks for the guidance and tips from the ranger Brian shook his hand one more time, saying ‘Thank you’ multiple times.

“Don’t mention it! Feel free to stay here in Garibaldi Provincial Park for as long as you need to. If there’s nothing else I can be of assistance to, I’ll be heading off to do my patrols. Catch you guys later.”

As he sped off into the far-off distance, the glare of the morning sun began to get
all-the-brighter. As Brian headed back to his family, he caringly checked on them to be certain that they were doing fine, promising to make a delectable breakfast that they would all definitely relish. The clanky propane gas burner was taken out and a small cylindrical tank was attached to it to supply the fuel. After turning on the gas, Brian lit the flame, causing a burst of fire puffing outward before shrinking to a manageable cooking flame.

As Samantha went to find some clean drinking stream water, Brian began cooking some thin, round pancakes, after mixing some white flour with salt and a small amount of bottled water. Returning with a bucket of cold crystal-clear water, Samantha placed it by the stove, instructing her rowdy teenagers to wash their hands before eating.

Two small pancakes were placed to each person and Brian detailed out his plan for the day, to see if his wife would agree with his initial suggestions. “So, I met this guy earlier this morning and he told us to learn how to survive in the woods, ideally buying a local wilderness guidebook to help us become self-sustainable for as long as the war drags on.”

“We could check out some of the stores in Squamish, as it’s not too far away.” Samantha’s tone lowered as she murmured to Brian out of earshot from the boys. “Are you sure we can rough it out in the woods? I mean, the boys have only been camping once and even then, it wasn’t exactly a walk in the park."

“I’m afraid there’s no other option. Unless you fancy fighting the Americans in town or letting them take us as prisoners of war.”

Samantha cast a worried glance at her two children, then let out a deep sigh of resignation, not wanting to accept their fate but conceding that there was no other logical choice for them to take.

Gently caressing a tuff of hair on his wife’s solemn face, Brian made a stone-cold promise that he would do whatever it takes to keep his family safe; whether that be from American invasion, or the dangers of living off the land in the BC wilderness. 

“Alright boys, finish up with your hot cakes and we’ll go to town for some more supplies, to see if there is anything left. Wash your dishes in the greywater please. It’s in the bucket next to the stove.”

Quickly rinsing the plates in the cold stream water, the boys hurriedly handed the plates to be dried off by their mom, before rubbing their hands together after enduring the freezing ordeal.

As they piled into the SUV, which was briming with the amount of supplies they had brought along, Brian drove south towards Squamish, hoping to get a survival guide or naturalist book to help them eek out a living at the very least. As they drove along the highway, they passed an increasingly packed number of people heading north, with moving trucks and SUVs, stuffed full of possessions, just as theirs were. 

When they arrived at the semi-urban town, they headed to the nearest department store, where there was already a small line formed outside, waiting to get in. Brian watched as shoppers exited the store with buggies crammed full of foodstuffs, gear, clothing and other essentials. Practically hitting himself, he regretted not coming earlier to at least have a better chance of getting some much-needed supplies before they ran out. As the greeter allowed the family to go in, they hurried over to the magazine section and were relieved to find several guides on wilderness survival still on the shelf. While there were still plenty of magazines and books, the same could not be said of toiletries, food, clothing and outdoor equipment, with bare shelves as the result of panic buying by frightened customers.

They grabbed what few boxes of crackers and snacks were still available, and assumed correctly that all the rice, flour and sugar would be gone. As they picked out some extra clothes to wear, they also found some fishing gear, which Brian thought might come in handy in the wilderness. They then grabbed extra pairs of gloves, and a sharp hunting knife, but Brian was disappointed to see that all the firearms and ammunition were sold out; having been some of the first items to be cleared out by the initial waves of customers.

They then lined up to pay for their goods, and Brian was thankful to his wife for suggesting taking out cash from the bank before leaving on their trip, as credit cards would mean nothing if the banks or networks are overtaken by the enemy. Indeed, even the Canadian dollar itself may have its value compromised if the nation falls to American invasion. But for the time being, the family was relieved that the stores were still accepting their currency. 

They piled up their items onto the belt and Brian noticed the cashier was nearly as young as his teenagers, barely fifteen at most. He thanked him for his service to the community and the boy simply smiled and nodded, “For Canada…or what’s left of it.”

After paying the boy, the family made a b-line to their vehicle and packed the additional supplies into their trunk and backseats, leaving barely enough room for the kids in the midsection to sit inside. Brian pulled the driver side door closed then outlaid his contingency plan if things at Garibaldi Provincial Park didn’t work out. “The plan is to keep heading north, to Whistler, then to Pemberton if possible. That should buy us enough time to figure out what to do if the American advance northwards towards us. But for now, we should get used to roughing it out in Garibaldi, as it seems to be our best bet in the short run.” 

He looked at the worry and concern written on his family’s faces, before adding a comforting word of encouragement to them: “we’ll be together, and that’s what counts!”

The car radio spewed out news as they headed back north, with the fears of invasion growing stronger as the broadcaster lamented over the crisis facing the Canadian people.

“Canadians all across the country are bracing for the full onslaught of the American army, attacking not only at the forty-nineth parallel, but also at the border with Alaska. Hundreds of thousands of marine corps, soldiers and reservists from all across America have gathered along the border, which was the longest undefended border in the world, till now. Sources say, an invasion is immanent and that Canadians should prepare for hostilities within the coming week. Anyone of military age is being encouraged to enlist with the Canadian Armed Forces, or join the AAA resistance fighters.”

After pulling into the park’s eerily empty parking lot, the boys gratefully got out and stretched their legs after enduring the boring two-hour roundtrip to and from Squamish. Brian took out his newly procured wilderness guidebook and carefully read the warnings and threats that they would likely face when camping unprotected out in the hostile environment. He also noted that the most lethal dangers in the outdoors is the cold weather first and foremost, then dehydration and wild animals at a distant third. With the hope they would not see any wolves, his contingency weapon to protect himself and his family was a small hunting knife which he kept strapped to his belt at all times. Watching his boys curiously investigating the streambanks, he thought that at least here, far away enough from the encroaching Americans, there was peace around them for the time being.

When Samantha returned with more greywater for sanitation and washing, Brian instructed her, according to his book, to strain the water through a sieve before taking it for use.

He gave a small axe to Joel, telling him to cut up some firewood, and to ask his brother to help carry it back to their campsite. “Be careful bud, that axe is pretty sharp and dangerous if you’re not careful!” After giving sufficient warning to his inexpert teenagers, he worked on building a firepit, using several heavy stones to encircle a small designated area for the firewood. 

With several crumpled-up tissues, Brian started the fire and laid the metal grill on top, resting it on the stones with a slight tilt. While they still had some propane left, they decided that it would be wise to save it for when they really needed to use it, relying for now on the natural abundance of dry firewood in the surrounding boreal forest. Pretty soon, the branches in the firepit were up in flame, glowing brighter as the day darkened into the early evening. Moments later, the boys returned with arms full of firewood, neatly split into sizable pieces. Immediately placing several of the larger wood blocks on top, the tinder dry logs caught fire almost immediately, and created a faint glow against the dark Canadian night. Swatting a pesky mosquito that threatened to land plumb on his nose, Brian suggested they all return to the car, much to the relief of everyone as the onslaught of blood-sucking insects descended upon them. 

Rummaging in her oversized handbag, Samantha took out some bug spray and began safeguarding everyone from the annoying nuisances by applying it to their arms and legs.

Bundling up with layers upon layers of clothes and sleeping bags, they dreamed of somewhere warmer, somewhere enjoyable, and most importantly, somewhere safe where they could live in peace.

Brian woke up to sound of woodpeckers drilling into the tough Lodgepole Pine trees, searching for anything edible underneath the bark. He then stretched out his limbs as usual, having been cramped in the car seat for one-too-many hours. Looking out the window at their firepit, a slight drizzle had extinguished their flame and Brian regretted not putting the extra firewood in a dry, sheltered place. Turning on the radio as the kids and Samantha started to stir, Brian listened intently to the instructions given to Canadians all across the country, from Nova Scotia to Vancouver Island. 

“This is a warning to all Canadians living close to the border with the United States. The Americans have invaded Canada, and are moving north at a rapid pace. Winnipeg has already fallen, along with Halifax, but members of the AAA are bravely resisting the advance of American troops on the West Coast, and in Southern Ontario where the Prime Minister and his cabinet have been relocated to a secret area. If you encounter any American troops, do not fight if you don’t have to, but retreat northwards to our safety bases set up across the country, where volunteer help is sorely needed. Residents of BC and the Yukon are also advised to stay away from the Alaskan border, as sources report of a possible land invasion via that direction. The Prime Minister has appealed for help from other nations, particularly from Russia and China, who are the natural rivals of the United States. Both nations have not expressed any intent to interfere at the time, but there are reports that both countries are increasing their military presence in the Pacific and Arctic regions.”

Washing his hands, Joel was surprised that Canada would ask for help from other countries so distant from them. “Whoa…do you really think Russia or China will fight for us dad?” 

Shaking his head, Brian dismissed it as some far-off hope that was too distant to rely upon. “Who knows if they will promise help, but if anyone will come to our rescue, it’s probably one of them. But, politics aside, let’s start working by foraging for some food. I’ve checked the guidebook and it seems to be the season for wild blueberries and blackberries around this area. Don’t eat any till I’ve got a chance to confirm that its edible, okay?”

Seeing a petit sized bush with several small blueish coloured berries, Samantha notified Brian who came over and compared the pictures with real thing.

“Yep, those are wild blueberries, take as much as we can.”

Samantha popped one into her mouth and immediately puckered her face at how extremely tart the little fruits were. “Definitely not like store-bought blueberries, that’s for sure.”

Nodding his head, Brian agreed with his wife and wondered when they would go grocery shopping again like their previous normal life; perhaps after the Americans take complete control over Canada. “As they say, beggers can’t be choosers. We won’t be grocery shopping anytime soon honey so we’d best get used to the foraging,” said Brian with his voice trailing off hesitantly.

As she put away dozens of the tiny berries she had been collecting, Samantha suggested a name for their expedition area. “This could be nature’s grocery store, and we can call it Wild-Mart! Hah!”

After the initial success of Samantha finding the blueberries, the rest of the day was not as fruitful, as all they encountered were non-edible plants and mushrooms. Looking at the meagre pouch of berries, Brian remained optimistically hopeful that they would manage in the wild, and suggested trying fishing in the nearby river or lake sometime tomorrow.

He then added more firewood to the fire that he was miraculously able to start, given the wet, soggy wood he had to work with. Samantha put on the grill a pot of canned ravioli that was just starting to quietly simmer. Portioning out some tomato sauce into each bowl, they then divvied up the ravioli between them, in portions not even enough for Samantha to feel full, let alone the boys or her husband. Brian watched his sons scrape the bowls for the last bits of pasta sauce, and he sympathized with them; taking out a chocolate bar from the bag of supplies and split it evenly for Joel and Arthur. Devouring it like hungry lions, the boys were soon licking melted chocolate from their fingers and went over to the greywater station to wash up.

As they all sat by the fire, there was an awkward silence that hung over the family, as each was lost in their own minds, thinking of the life they once had.

Brian decided now was a time to reminisce upon better times and to keep everyone’s spirits up and prevent them from getting depressed. “Alright guys, let’s share a bit of insight into what we’re all thinking. What do you guys miss most about living in Metro Vancouver? Joel, you go first.”

The lanky teenager swung his arms above his head, as if swinging some imaginary racket in his hands. “I miss badminton the most; playing with my friends and competing in tournaments.”

Arthur nodded his head in agreement with his brother and spoke next with a dreamy look on his face. “I miss eating out at restaurants, both fine-dining and fast-food, where you actually feel full after you eat…”

Patting her son’s flat belly, Samantha offered her thoughts as well: “I miss going grocery shopping among the thousands of items available to cook with.”

In concurrence with his wife’s memory, Brian’s most missed enjoyment was also food-related. “I miss cooking with our stainless-steel range, sink and other cooking appliances, where I could make something more fancy than canned ravioli for dinner.”

Samantha closed her eyes, pondering dreamily until she slapped her forehead at a mosquito that landed on her. “Well, we’d best get inside before we’re eaten alive again by the dang bugs.” 

As Brian left the warmth of the fire he started to shiver, and like usual, he reclined his seat and tried to make himself as comfortable as he could given the unrelaxing positioning. 

Fairly soon after, the entire family was fast asleep, with the occasional whimper from the boys. As the fire outside started to die down, darkness once again swarmed to reclaim its territory, suffocating the flickering embers of the fire till it was extinguished, and the seeds of the fire conceded defeat to the pitch-black night.

But as morning approached, the darkness was once again pushed away, retreating to their ghastly shadows deep in the forest. The first rays of sunlight once again woke up the sleepy family, and promised them warmth as the sun shone brighter each passing moment. 

Taking some firewood that he had laid under the car to keep dry, Brian rekindled the fire to get a head start on breakfast, utilizing the tart blueberries in a pancake mixture he was making. Mixing two cups of white flour with some bottled water, salt and the blueberries, he poured the runny mixture into a pan that had been sitting over the fire till it was scorching hot. Letting the pancakes cook for about thirty seconds on each side, Brian expertly transferred them to serving plates, until everyone had two of them. Watching his sons play around with the bland breakfast, he knew the meal was missing a key component that would have made it delicious; maple syrup. Without the essential sweet component, the pancakes were essentially flat bread that had not risen, with specks of sour blueberries; almost as unappetizing as it sounded.

“Boys, don’t waste any of the food, okay? I know it tastes boring but we need to keep up our strength. Think of it as fuel for your body. Not tasty but still essential for our survival.” 

The boys gave a thumbs up as they tried to cram down the rest of their bland pancakes into their mouths before taking their plates to the washing basin to be rinsed off with the cold, yet relatively clean, filtered spring water.

Making sure the fire had enough fuel to keep burning for a while, Brian and his family took out the fishing gear and headed towards a fairly sizable lake according to their map of the park. As a light drizzle of rain dampened their moods, they arrived at the serene lake, which according to the guide, was probably home to plenty of plump rainbow trout.

“Well guys, it’s fish for dinner if we can catch one. Here dear, use some of the worms we dug up earlier to bait the hook.”

Samantha squirmed with disgust at the wriggling animal, letting Brian attach the bait and cast the line before taking the pole from him and preparing to reel it in if a fish bites. The boys on the other hand baited and cast their own lines proficiently, much to the surprise of their father who had expected them to be out of their element. As the family waited, the drizzle petered out to a warm afternoon sun, then Samantha got a nibble, then a bite, and she held on for dear life as the line went taut and jerked in a frenzy as the fish tried to get away. After several minutes of battling, with Brian’s help holding the rod, Samantha reeled in a beauty; a five-pound rainbow trout flailing on the beach. Using a stone to knock the fish senseless, Brian unhooked the line from its mouth and put it in a bag to be carried back when they were finished catching more fish. 

After the family landed two more medium sized trout, they decided to go back and cook their catch, as everyone was feeling hungry after only having a light breakfast all day and listening to their stomachs growling in protest. Taking out his hunting knife, Brian gutted the fish and washed off the crimson blood from his hands, and threw the offal back into the river where it wouldn’t attract any unwanted predators. He knew that they would have to cook and eat the fish as soon as possible, to avoid dealing with any animals lured in by the smell of blood or flesh. The late evening sun cast long rays of sunshine, and signaled its descent into the horizon as the family watched the fish cook over the fire.

Shaking a generous amount of salt over each fish, the skin was crisping up nicely and the smell made everyone including Brian salivate in anticipation of the meal. Taking out a small bottle of ketchup, they took turns squirting a little on the crispy skin, and together with the salt, everyone agreed that the meal was by far the best since they started their escapade into the wilderness.

Pretty soon, all that was left of their meal were three fish carcasses stripped to the bone, which were carefully wrapped in dry leaves and burned in the fire. As night fell, they all took one last visit to the dimly lit area designated to be a toilet, and washed their hands in the basin before returning to the protection of their car for sleep.

Hearing a low growl in the middle of the night, Brian woke up groggily and was scared stiff by what he saw outside the car. Two large black bears were sniffing around their campsite, smelling the firepit and looking around for anything edible. He mentally thanked the guidebook for instructing them to keep all food secured and waste scraps discarded properly and he watched as the bears retreated back into the shadows of the forest, taking with them, the danger they had brought. Going back to sleep, Brian figured it was not necessary to wake up his family, since the threat was past, but he would probably mention it in the morning.

When the family woke up, there was shock amongst everyone as they heard of the harrowing close call. “Really honey? There was a bear? How big was it?” cried Samantha, clearly astonished.

“There were two actually, and they looked like a mother and her cub. They wandered around the camp and sniffed around our firepit before leaving.”

“Hey dad, looks like the bears left a departure gift for us. Look at this poop! It’s humongous.” 

Poking it around with a stick, the boys were disgusted, but at the same time curious about what the feces contained.

Following the instructions in the guidebook, they realized they would need a stable source of vitamin C in their diet, or risk the danger of getting scurvy, which could be fatal. Harvesting the tips of the spruce tree branches and boiling them in a small pot, they strained out the needles and drank the water, which was infused with vitamin C from the plants. Besides complaining that the water smelled like their old Christmas tree, everyone was feeling more energized, alert and refreshed after several gulps of the vile tasting liquid.

Brian decided to take a break from fishing and opted to try their hand at foraging again, but this time for Sword Ferns, whose rootstocks could be boiled or roasted and then eaten, with a taste similar to artichokes. It didn’t take much time after exploring the park in one of the numerous trails to encounter a Sword Fern, and pretty soon, after some digging, Brian held out a tuber like rootstock which he triumphantly put into his empty basket. Everyone contributed to the laborious digging and several hours later, they had collected a significant quantity of the edible rhizomes, which were gently washed in the stream next to the campsite. 

Placing the cast-iron pan on top of the grill, Brian then laid the freshly washed tubers into the pan, and a sizzling sound could be heard as the residual water evaporated with the heat of the flames. When they were sufficiently charred and cooked thoroughly, Brian gave everyone a meagre amount; not quite enough to fill their stomachs but enough to last till tomorrow. 

Taking out their hand-held portable radio, they left it in the sunlight to charge up the weak batteries, before curiously turning it on to hear of the latest news on the war.

“Despite a gallant effort by the Canadian Forces, several small towns in Southern Ontario were occupied by the encroaching Americans, forcing much of the defending Canadians back to better held positions in Toronto and Ottawa. On the west coast, Vancouver has been besieged for the second day in a row, bombarded by aerial attacks and a land-based invasion by a force estimated to be twice the size of the current Canadian garrison. American ships have blockaded the port harbour in the city, effectively cutting the city off from Vancouver Island, where more soldiers were advancing north after taking Victoria yesterday. The legislative buildings were evacuated just before BC’s capital fell, and the provincial government is setting up impromptu headquarters in an undisclosed location in northern BC. Infrastructure such as the railroads and highways have been heavily damaged, as the enemy seeks to disrupt the movement of goods and soldiers to the west coast. Having been taken out early in the invasion, the pipelines supplying oil from Alberta were cut off and many military vehicles and equipment had to be abandoned due to the shortage of petroleum. The AAA is struggling desperately to bog down the Americans in close-quarter combat, hiding in empty homes, offices and buildings and striking them in hit and run tactics. The Americans have responded to the stubborn rebels by striking military targets using aerial and naval bombardment.”

“So boys and girls, we have a dilemma on our hands. Do we continued retreating north into the cold, unforgiving mountains, or do we hide the best we can in the woods, trying to survive and hinder the invading Americans as best we can?”

“I’d say we join the AAA and make a home for ourselves in this park. We probably need more preparations as winter comes, but if we can stay hidden, we could bog down the Americans if they do eventually come this far north,” said Joel.

Arthur agreed with his brother and voted to stay put as well, not eager to retreat into the
snow-covered regions of the Yukon and Northwest Territories.

“Well? What about you honey? You’re the leader of our family. What do you say we should do?” asked Samantha.

As he stroked his narrow chin as if there were some imaginary facial hair, Brian responded to his wife and put forward his suggestion: “Hunker down and resist it is. We’ll lead the Americans in a merry dance around the park before they can capture us. But till then, for our family, for Canada and for the True North strong and free.” 

As the four family members laid their hands together, each one of them committed to the greater cause, knowing the path ahead would be bitter and difficult.

Brian knew that they would need to settle deeper within the woods to avoid detection and they first had to drive their unwieldly SUV around the trees and then park it in a good location that would be out of sight. Next, they formed several markings, which would be scored onto the tree trunks and would lead them to various important areas within their camp. A simple triangle symbolized the nearest resting area, whereas a circle indicated a clean water source. Lastly, for the car and their storage of foodstuffs, a large square was discretely marked on the trees leading to that area.

In regard to the daily tasks that needed to be finished, they agreed to divide up the workload and to assign each with their own set of chores to do. Samantha was in charge of gathering clean water to wash and drink with, as well as washing all clothes and equipment. Brian focused on gathering firewood, to be lit only in the cold, freezing nights or strictly for cooking purposes, in order to avoid detection of the smoke during the day. Joel was responsible for gathering Sword Fern tubers, using a small trowel and shovel to dig up as much as he could from the plentiful and easy-to-find plant. Lastly, Arthur preoccupied himself with catching at least one or two fish a day, procuring an important source of protein for the family as the fish were the only source of meat they could reliably find. While Brian had tried once or twice to pin a bird down with his hunting knife, he simply did not have the accuracy or precision to make the kill. 

As the family got back together when the darkness fell, they sat around the campfire while their food roasted on the grill. Sharing the trout and tubers, they were careful to avoid swallowing any fish bones and making sure to throw the scraps into the fire. 

After hearing faint barks from what they assumed to be coyotes, they decided to retire to the safety of the family SUV and doubled down for the encroaching night. 

Brian brushed aside a stray stand of hair in front of his wife’s face and smiled as he looked over at his sons as well; all tired from the day’s work in the wilderness. Arthur had caught two large trout by himself, and Joel’s efficiency at finding Sword Fern roots was nothing less than impressive. But he was genuinely concerned about how long they would be able to keep ahead of hunger and cold, and not the least, the invading Americans. Brian looked out the windshield as his eyes drooped lower and lower, and soon he found himself dreaming of normal life in Surrey, working at his prestigious civic job position as a senior GIS analyst. Working with scanners, plotters and maps, he sat in his two-hundred-dollar chair and waved at his coworker Sandra as she walked over to the state-of-the-art employee’s lounge. With several automatic instant coffee machines, a large stainless-steel fridge, and new microwave that could air fry, defrost or pop popcorn, Brian was living the Canadian dream, making all those countless hours studying in post-secondary unregretfully worth it.

Shifting his position, Brian was unsure why his office chair felt uncomfortable today, and as he tried to adjust it, the car seat jolted straight up, yanking him back to reality in the family SUV. Unable to fall back asleep, he started out at the twinkling stars in the night sky, wondering if they would ever experience normal life again, and how long the painful war would drag on.

As Samantha slowly woke from her peaceful slumber, she tiredly yawned and looked over at her husband, who was staring out the window lost in his own world of thoughtfulness. “Can’t sleep Dear?” speaking in a hushed tone so as not to wake up the boys, Brian nodded at her, before taking a deep breath to calm himself. 

“Sometimes I wonder how humans can be so violent, brutal and merciless, yet at the same time, they can be loving, caring and gentle. It’s like we’re two complete opposites, yet, we’re both just different sides of the same coin. It just makes you lose hope in humanity when we see the worst in people.”

Samantha thought carefully before responding, trying to explain the situation from a different angle: “even though we can be two faces of the same coin, we need both sides as a gauge to measure just how good or bad life is. For instance, if no one ever stole anything, would we still be grateful for the safekeeping of our property if we have never experienced the crime personally? Sometimes, we need the bad to remind us of just how wonderful the good really is, helping us to be grateful, content and happy with what we have instead of constantly nagging for more. The very definition of good partially depends on understanding what the opposite or its antithesis is.”

Brian cracked a small smile at the vast wisdom of his cherished wife, and he smothered her in kisses, thanking her for helping him understand: “I never knew I married such an insanely smart young woman!” 

Planting one last big kiss on her cheek, they heard the uncomfortable murmurs from the back and turned around to see their two sons, wide awake and embarrassed at the unashamed, blatant affection between their parents.

“Dad! Can you and Mom kiss each other when we’re not around? It’s gross!” complained Joel.

“You two were supposed to be sleeping! Little wretches!” said Brian as he swatted his boy’s heads pretentiously. 

As everyone tumbled out of the car, there was the matter of breakfast to be dealt with before they each set out on their preassigned duties. Roasting some of the leftover tubers from last night, they hungrily devoured the light meal and headed off to go about their chores. Gathering some adequately dried wood from under the car, Brian started a fire and began putting more logs around it to hopefully dry off from the morning sprinkling of rain. After the surrounding logs were dry enough, he placed them under the SUV, replenishing their stockpile of dry fuel sources. Waiting for his next batch of firewood to dry, Brian turned on the solar-powered radio and listened to the grim and worsening news about Canada’s situation in the war. 

“As the war approaches the end of its first week, there was mixed bag of emotions as good and bad news was reported. The good news is that the United Kingdom has pledged to help Canada, a former Commonwealth country under British control, in sending tens of thousands of elite soldiers along with dozens of warships across the Atlantic to the eastern war front. Despite the promise, popular opinion amongst citizens of the UK is in neutrality, and to not get involved in the North American war. The bad news is that the expected help from Russia and China in the Pacific have not presented itself, and it seems any help from the two giant nations is very unlikely given their official stances on the war. Also, almost all major cities in Alberta and Saskatchewan have been conquered by the Americans, and they now are moving in a pincer movement to clamp down on stubborn resistance in Metro Vancouver. Officials in the besieged city had hoped for another country to threaten the US on a southern front in order to relieve pressure on Vancouver, but it seems those hopes will be dashed when the Americans overtake over the city, possibly in the next few days or perhaps weeks at best. Thousands of civilian refugees fleeing the conflict are finding themselves trapped in the harsh Canadian climate, as fall and winter approaches in the Arctic and boreal forests, where most of the evacuees were headed. The Canadian government is pleading with the United Nations to condemn the American aggression and to provide peacekeepers and resources to help the Canadian people out of their dire situation. The representative of the United States in the UN has threatened to cut off their funding if the organization decides to meddle in what the US calls their ‘domestic affairs.’ They have also made known that any intervention in the war with Canada would be vetoed by the US, as they tried to discourage any outside forces from interfering.”

After Samantha put down the large barrel of water she was carrying, she couldn’t help but overhear the last few words of the news broadcast, and shook her head at the red tape and bogging down of decision-makers due to political interests. “So, it looks like the Chinese and Russians won’t be joining the fight, eh? Honestly though, it was a longshot to begin with.”

Brian couldn’t help but agree; “Perhaps we should of took a transport ship or plane to Hong Kong when we had the chance. At least we had relatives there to help us.”

“Hey, looking back isn’t going to help anyone, so chop, chop! This firewood isn’t going to split itself!” 

Samantha patted her dejected husband on the back before going back to retrieving the cold, refreshing water from the glacial-fed streams. 

When evening approached, Arthur came back to camp with only one fish, but it was impressively large for a rainbow trout. 

“Shame I only caught one, but this guy should feed us plenty!”

Brian inspected the gutted fish and admired it, giving his son a thumbs up; “looks like a seven-pounder to me! Well done! And what about you Joel? Any luck with the foraging?”

Joel brought forth a large basket of tubers, berries, currents and some spruce tips, which impressed his father just as much as his brother, with the wide variety and quantity of food he had managed to collect in just a day.

“I’m proud of both of you kids. Pretty soon you’ll be able to live out here on your own without our help! But enough talk! Let’s cook what we’ve got and chow down!”

As the family ate their dinner around the campfire, talking of days long ago, there was a renewed sense of hope, that somehow, someway, they would be able to make it through this hard and trying time before them.