The Raven Falconer Chronicles (Complete Series)

By Dennis F. Larsen

Complete Series: Episodes 1-3

Operation Z-Day

The world is about to change. A malicious virus infects thousands, then millions, killing the elderly, young and weak. Infected survivors descend near to death, only to emerge wanton beasts, driven by carnal instincts and desperate madness. Raven Falconer, a fledgling author, retreats to the mountains of serene Banff National Park, only to find herself cut off from friends and family. Peril, beyond earthly reason, sets the unwitting characters into motion, seeking each other out and charting their destiny.

Rise of the Huskers

For Biathlon Olympian, Nathan Edwards, life as he knows it is over. Pummeled by the disease he survives and embraces his new Husker identity. Using a remnant of cerebral function, he controls his mindless ‘pack’, which kills indiscriminately to satisfy their fleshy urges. Unchecked, they run amok, threatening the resort community and propelling three groups to a horrific engagement, where to kill is the only option.

Vengeance Fulfilled

Raven, Ziggy, Mick and more long to be free, but for many, including a native band led by an opportunistic chieftain, civil war seems inevitable. Factions, galvanized by a need to survive, rally around leaders, some virtuous and some morally corrupt. However, a wretched blackness clouds the land, suggesting goodness will not always triumph over evil . . . but sweet vengeance may be its own reward.

Note: If you are a diehard zombie fan, with an unyielding view of the genre - the dead coming back to life to seek out brains - you should pass this one by. However, if you'd like to see some horrifying realism injected into the theme, then download The Raven Falconer Chronicles today.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Dennis F. Larsen
• Release date: Apr 27, 2015
• ISBN: 9780991843152

Dennis F. Larsen

Dennis F. Larsen grew up in Brigham City, Utah, a small town set against the Rocky Mountains. He attended Utah State University before graduating from Pacific University in Forest Grove, Oregon with a Doctorate of Optometry degree in May of 1987. He has worked as an Optometrist in a group practice since that time. Dennis was married to his hometown sweetheart, Holly, in 1981 and they have four children. In recent years their lives have been blessed with the addition of six grandchildren. They currently live in Edmonton, Alberta, Canada.Writing has become a wonderful release for Dennis, giving him a vent for his active imagination and need to stay active. His first novel, 'With Cruel Intent', is a crime thriller set in rural Georgia. It is presently being edited for re-release. 'The Living Hunger' takes on a new feel, plunging survivors of a nuclear and biological holocaust into a new world of death and dismay. The author's most recent work is a dystopian-themed story, following four roommates as they cope with a viral pandemic that turns humans into Huskers: animalistic, altered humans - not quite zombies, but far from 'normal'. Catch this one in three episodes or as a completed Series: The Raven Falconer Chronicles.

Book preview

Prologue

Alberta, Canada (2019)

A cold, dense fog lifted from the still waters and effortlessly crept over the worn, smooth boulders that lined the shore of the lake, hiding the earth and the dead. Victor stood near the water’s edge with his raincoat pulled tightly around his neck, his left hand clasped at his throat, holding the lapels together. In his right he held a long, slender dagger, which widened very slightly toward the end, sweeping up into a highly polished point. Thick, red blood dripped from the steel and splashed in an ever-growing pool of crimson near his feet. Exhausted, he could not bring himself to wipe clean the instrument of his salvation, nor could he take his eyes from the bodies of friends and fiends scattered on the ground around him.

The secluded cabin had seemed the perfect place to seek refuge from those that were dead and should have stayed that way. Events around the world had unfolded far more quickly than governments could react. The release of a new, highly concentrated nerve agent, by an extreme terrorist organization, had spread panic and then death in its wake. Thousands, then millions were affected, succumbing within minutes once they were exposed to the chemical. The world community may have survived this alone but the horrific, unexplained transformation of those, thought dead, into savage, blood-crazed zombies tilted the scales against anyone surviving the initial attack.

When the streets of New York reeked of death and before the dead walked again, Victor Graves and his friends had loaded a van with the few hurried items they could secure and had run for the hills. Pockets of the living were evident as they had driven further north, but death was also present. It seemed there was no rhyme or reason, as if the transforming agent had literally been carried on the winds, killing like an angel of death seeking out the wicked. Arriving at his uncle’s property well after midnight, the little party set about making beds, fixing food and looking for weapons. Victor had pulled the dagger from the mounts above the fireplace as soon as they had entered the home, while others were satisfied with the kitchen cutlery.

It was then, as they prepared to make the quaint, little outpost their home that the wave of repugnant, flesh-eating dead had attacked. They swept over the beleaguered band in seconds, easily ripping entrails from their first victim, who fell before she could utter a sound. Victor and company had battled bitterly, retreating to the slowly lapping water’s edge as their last stand. Screams had echoed for what seemed like hours but in reality were mere minutes. When the scene had matched the tranquility of the placid lake, he stood alone, covered in blood and tissue, unable to fathom what had just occurred and not wanting to accept it.

He pirouetted a full 360 degrees, confirming that which shrouded him in a blanket of pain and unthinkable horror -- they were gone. All of them – DEAD! Victor dropped to his knees, thrusting the blade deep into the soil at his side. He raised his hands high above his head and shouted, profaning God and emptying the anguish from his soul. Suddenly the snap of a twig alerted him, a warning that he was not alone. He reached for the dagger but it was too late. A pair of cold, spiny fingers curled themselves around his neck. He desperately tried to wrench himself free from the creature’s hands but strength existed in the grasp where he expected there to be none. Victor pushed himself forward into a clever somersault, slipping the blade from the ground as he did and breaking the assailant’s grip. Free, he spun, the dagger ready, but he could not strike. Standing before him was Sky, a woman he had once loved, a faint recognition in her eyes, which were now clouded and grey.

She advanced, walking slowly and dragging her right leg. A fresh bite mark oozed serum from her neck, a remnant of the arterial pulse of spewing blood that had ceased once her beating heart had stopped. Sky reached out for him, her fingers curling and clawing while her teeth gnashed together, creating a ghoulish clicking with each closure. There was nowhere to hide, no place he could run and no option but to plunge the weapon into her skull and end it. As she approached, he extended his hand and clutched her throat, keeping her snapping jaws at bay. Lifting the dagger to strike the fatal blow, he hesitated, but only briefly, before he slammed the blade down, burying the steel in her head until the hilt struck bone.

Noooooo! he yelled, as she dropped to the ground, pulling the blade and his hand along with her.

* * *

Not bad, Raven quipped, pushing her chair away from the keyboard and looking at the glowing screen in front of her. The budding, young author stood, ran her fingers through her sleek, black hair before she hustled to the fridge and retrieved another can of Dr. Pepper.

Chapter 1

Fall’s cool bite nipped at passersby walking briskly from car or bus stop to the warmth of their home or workplace. The sudden cold snap had arrived in minutes, unexpected and unwelcome. For the inhabitants of Southern Alberta it was the first impending sign of months of snow and shortened days. On a corner of Bowness Road, near the Calgary Children’s Hospital, a condo complex stood, casting its late afternoon shadow obliquely to the northeast. The earth’s axis was shifting, putting the sun further south and distancing its warmth from the Canadian city. Winter would soon be upon them.

The summer, at least for some, had come and gone as they always did, a chronic lack of sun-filled days and too many mosquitos, but for others it had been the beginning of a living hell. Rainwater, combined with the persistent melting of the snowpack sitting atop the Rockies, had gorged the rivers and flooded many homes while sweeping others away. Some homeowners had lost everything, including their lives. The past June had been particularly bad, even by Canadian standards. Billions of dollars in damages had forced thousands from their homes and sent hundreds on their way penniless; their hope-filled lives shattered and happiness, now just a matter of wishes and dreams.

On the uppermost floor of the condo building, a two-bedroom unit faced into the sun. The shades were pulled, inviting the fleeting rays of summer into the room, warming and brightening the space. A quartet of beautiful yet very different young women occupied the unit, each with unique aspirations and goals but being the very best of friends. The condo had been modestly furnished with hand-me-downs from family and friends when the four had decided to move in together. From that day forward they’d never looked back with regret. Although today something was amiss, as three of the roommates gathered together in the living room, reminiscent of diminutive players huddled up during a powder-puff football game. They spoke in hushed whispers but loud enough to covertly reach the fourth of their party sitting at the kitchen table, poring over a list of items she’d created the night before.

Raven wound her long, black tresses around the fingers of her right hand while she tapped a pencil against the pad with her left. She could hear the trio of conspirators plotting against her but chose to ignore them, not wanting to give them the satisfaction of distracting her from the decision she’d made. What else will I need? She ran the itemized list through her mind one more time, desperately trying to imagine every possible scenario and what she would need to cope. Anxiety, mingled with fear and excitement, stirred her imagination. She’d debated leaving for days but knew there was only one logical decision: pack her bags and head for the hills, if only temporarily. It will be fun, she told herself, almost believing the notion. Raven’s first big break as an author was there, teetering in space, just daring her to reach out and take it, but the distraction of living with a houseful of well-meaning roommates was slowing her efforts.

The girls hadn’t intended to interrupt or intrude and were apologetic when they did, but that’s just the way it was. Four women in their twenties with active lives were impossible to keep down and Raven did her best to understand. Bobi, the youngest and shortest of the bunch, had been so cute the day before when she’d learned of Raven’s choice to depart for a month.

Rave, we can do this. I know we can. We’ll be like . . . ah . . . mice, that’s it . . . church mice. You won’t even know we’re around. Come on, tell me you’ll stay. She’d been so convincing, almost shedding a tear but Raven knew her friends better than they knew themselves. They would toe the line for a day or two, staying out of her way and letting her work but before long boyfriends would show up, others would drop by, party invitations would come and her concentration would vanish.

The would-be author had remained understanding and tactful in her delivery. It’s only a month. You’ll hardly know I’m gone. The reply, though sincere, had not brought a smile to her little friend’s face but sent her away disappointed and crying. Raven had called after her, I’ll be fine. I’ve been there before. There’s really nothing to worry about. Come on, Bobi, don’t be so sad. The words had bounced off the bedroom door as Bobi closed it, but not before she’d glanced back, her quivering lips and red eyes saying what her voice could not.

Tonight the three were preparing an ambush to keep her in Calgary and she knew it. However, she had a little tactic of her own that she was quite certain would bring the friends around to her way of thinking.

Raven Falconer was a deep thinker and dreamed of writing classics that would one day stand on shelves next to the likes of Hemmingway, Tolstoy and Alcot. Her present venture, Operation Z-Day, would win her no awards or put her on the bestseller lists but it might secure her a spot with a local publisher who had insisted the novel be completed by the end of the month. For weeks she’d battled her own busy schedule, and those of her friends, in hopes the time to write would miraculously appear. It had not and now that she was down to the wire, she literally felt there was no choice but to get away and write day and night until it was done. Smugs, Raven's uncle, had graciously offered his cabin and she'd readily accepted, having visited often as a child she knew it to be secluded and quiet, presenting a perfect atmosphere to get her creative juices flowing.

Across the room she could still make out most of what was being schemed and plotted quite openly by the trio of ‘mice’. The dark-haired beauty twisted her black locks into a bun and thrust the pencil through it, temporarily holding it in place. You know I can hear you, right? she said, drumming her polished nails on the surface of the well-worn tabletop. There was no immediate reply, as the conspirators were so engrossed in preparing a convincing message that they ignored Raven completely. Um, excuse me. Helloooooo, what’s going on over there? she called.

What? Hannah asked, pulling her head from the huddle long enough to cast a quizzical look at Raven. We’re just talking and trying to stay out of your hair. We thought that’s what you wanted. She didn’t wait for a reply before plunging her head back into the cluster of three, interjecting another quick thought.

It is but don’t make this any harder on me than it’s going to be already. Come on, can’t we talk this over? Hannah, Bobi, you guys understand, don’t you? And Mick, I know you can see my point of view.

Finally the three parted but without the usual ‘Go Team’ shout. Okay, we have an idea we’d like to run past you and we’ll abide by whatever decision you make. We are your greatest fans and know one day you’ll make it big in the book biz but hear me out, and then we’ll do whatever you decide. Fair enough? Mick asked, she being appointed as the head mouse.

Shoot, Raven replied, pushing her chair back on two legs and pulling the pencil from her hair, allowing the locks to drop and swing freely in the air.

Mick looked excitedly back and forth between Bobi and Hannah. Okay, we’re all going to move out for the next month. We’ve got friends we can stay with so we can leave the condo to you.

Raven jumped in before Mick could finish, cutting her off with a string of, No, no, no . . . There’s no way I’m letting you guys . . .

Mick plowed ahead, asserting her alpha dog persona and continued her thought. Let me finish – you promised. The young author reluctantly dropped her chair back onto all four legs, shrugged her shoulders and closed her mouth. Fine. So as I was saying, it’s really no sweat off our backsides if we relocate for the month. We’ll only drop by as you invite us, and to make sure you’re still alive. What do you say? It’s the perfect plan.

A broad smile graced the Falconer girl’s face. What great friends! She paused briefly, pulling together the thoughts of her heart before she spoke. You guys are the best – I mean that! When I count my blessings, you three are always at the top and I love you all so much but I’m afraid I can’t impose on you in that way. It’s not fair to any of us and I’m actually really looking forward to getting away and I don’t mean from you. I need a break from work, the phone and the city in general. I need some space. I hope you can understand.

Her roommates wandered to the table, each coming close enough to touch their friend and confirm their allegiance. We understand but we’re still not happy about it, Bobi concluded, pulling a chair from the table and plopping her tiny bottom onto it. As she did, a large, unrestrained belch erupted from her mouth, drawing everyone’s attention away from Raven for just a moment.

Mick, the oldest of the group and full-time elementary school teacher, cuffed Bobi playfully across the back of her head, bringing a laugh from the others.

Hey, what the . . . What was that for? You know my trouble, the small lab tech said, referring to her ongoing battle with acid reflux. This brought another round of laughs from the roommates, including Bobi.

All right, all right, enough – let’s sort this out before you guys drive me crazy, Raven pleaded, looking to Mick and Hannah for help.

Okay, can we get back to Raven’s issues for a minute? Hannah asked, shooting an arched brow at Bobi.

Thank you. So I’m going to my uncle’s cabin – no further discussion. With that being said, I can’t be away from your nuttiness for a full month so how ‘bout you all come out in a week or two and spend the weekend?

The suggestion brought hoots and hollers from Hannah and Bobi, while drawing a concerned smile from the more mature Mick. You sure? Mick sincerely asked. Could really screw up your concentration by having the ‘Wild Bunch’ there for a few days.

Sure, it’ll be fun and by then I may need a restock of the important things, like Dr. Pepper, peanuts, and M&M’s. You know, the hardcore survival stuff. Raven smiled and got up from the chair, took each of her friends in a warm embrace and kissed their cheeks. You guys are the best family a girl could ask for -- never change, she said, fighting to hold back the sudden rush of emotion that would have tears spilling down her face if she didn’t act quickly. Okay, enough of this girly crap. I’ve got things to do, places to go and people to see. Who wants to help? Three hands went up instantly, into which Raven thrust a quickly scribbled note, providing instructions on what they each could do to expedite her departure.

Raven’s first stop was her summer employer. The owner of the coffee shop had mixed feelings about letting his best staff member leave for a full month, but he preferred to give her the time rather than force her to quit. He was a sound businessman who understood it was the pretty girl’s face and cheerful smile that drove his business and certainly not the second-rate coffee he sold at a premium. However, he insisted she be gone for no more than a month and he even managed a heartfelt, Good luck, as she’d scooted out the door.

The friends, with directions in hand, scurried about Western Calgary, buying up the things Raven would need to sustain her for the month. By 9:00 p.m. they were back at the condo, packing items into boxes and checking them off the list as they went. I think you’ve done it. Raven excitedly confirmed.

Did any of you feel like things were a little crazy out there tonight? Hannah inquired. The friends stopped what they were doing and looked at her. What? Don’t tell me you didn’t see or feel it.

You mean the paranoid and perplexed that were mobbing the stores? Bobi questioned, clutching at her throat, as if suddenly overtaken by some invisible bug.

Exactly! Hannah replied, shifting her weight to throw a shoulder into the comic. Bobi winced, pulling away and rubbing her bosom where she'd taken the strike.

Happens every year. Flu hits and people empty the store shelves in case they’re stranded at home for a prolonged period of time. Don’t you remember last year when people were begging for Tamiflu and there wasn’t enough to go around? Bobi asked, in hopes it would calm any burgeoning fears.

The packing done, the girls plopped down on the chairs and couch that faced the well-used fireplace. In years past, they’d all faced flu season with mixed results. Mick was the most prone to exposure, due to the nature of her work with small children, but each had taken their turn in bed for a few days as the others acted as nurses and comforters. The women suspected this year would be no different.

Raven sat in an overstuffed armchair and pulled her knees to her chest. She wrapped her arms around her shins before she shifted the conversation away from illness to something more upbeat. I’ll print out a detailed map so you won’t get lost on the way to the cabin. Is there anything else you guys can think of that we need to discuss before I leave in the morning?

Take your cell charger, Hannah reminded her. We’ll let you know in a few days which weekend we’ll be coming.

Thanks Hannah. Let’s say our goodbyes tonight so I don’t have to wake you in the morning. I’m gonna try to get out of here early to avoid rush hour. The friends sat in silence for a moment, each lost in their own thoughts. It was Raven who broke the comfortable stillness. I’ve got to get to bed if I’m driving early. Raven hugged each friend just a second or two longer than she usually did, saving Mick for last. You take care of these two, she said, nodding her head at Bobi and Hannah.

You know I will. You on the other hand, will have to fend for yourself. Be careful out there. Avoid the bears and the local ‘wild-life’, if you know what I’m talking about?

Yes, I will and yes, I do. Nothing but writing with the occasional nap for me. Raven pulled her long-time friend close and whispered in her ear, Love you Mick, thanks for being there for me. The two separated, slightly misty-eyed and emotional.

This is ridiculous – we’re seeing you in just a few days. What could happen? For heaven’s sake, really, what could happen? Mick concluded, before pushing Raven in the direction of their shared bedroom.

Weeks from this night, Mick would look back on her question and wonder if hell itself had taken a special interest in the lives of the four friends, creating chaos and pain where calm and joy had existed.

Chapter 2

Raven awoke before sunrise and was on the road, headed west toward the mountains before the sun’s early morning rays caught up to her. The extra light was welcome, especially as she hit the foothills where deer, elk and even bear could be milling about on the highway. Fatigue had set in minutes after leaving Calgary’s city limits but she’d managed to fight it off with sheer will and an icy cold soft drink she’d pulled from the cooler. It had been a tough trade off, a blast of caffeine for a bathroom break she’d hoped to avoid.

Her mind swirled with a mix of book ideas, characters and the thought of roommates she’d left behind. A sneaking inadequacy was already rearing its appalling head, inserting doubt into the corridors of her confidence. She tried dodging the negative barbs but couldn’t help creating a mental list of meager excuses, explaining why she was unable to succeed. As she drove, her mind continued to play an unrehearsed 70’s version of good cop – bad cop, entertaining her at times but almost pushing her to despair. Through those early morning hours, and above it all, she strained to remember her mother’s words. Raven, you are gifted and talented beyond what you know. Believe in yourself and don’t let anything hold you back from becoming your dream. Her mother had said it often, and even as a little girl she trusted in what she had said.

She missed her mom, taken far too early by an aggressive, silent killer, leaving her and her father to fend for themselves at a time when a girl needed a mother. Eli Falconer had done his best to raise his daughter, acting as both a mother and father. He’d chosen not to remarry, telling Raven the right woman just hadn’t come along, but the maturing young lady suspected it had more to do with his continued love and devotion to her departed mother. Raven's father was her strength and unmovable anchor through some difficult years. His influence and push for excellence helped to propel the striking young girl to the top of her class, where she earned honors in almost every subject. The sky’s the limit, he’d assured her, listing a litany of possibilities, including doctor, lawyer or accountant, which was his chosen profession.

She remembered the day she’d come home from her first year of college, her mind made up with what she aspired to be. He’d been less than thrilled but sweet in his feigned enthusiasm. That’s great dear, your mother would be proud. Those words rang in her ears now as they did then. Lilith Falconer was the artsy member of the family, encouraging her daughter to explore the creative side of her personality. It was Eli who fostered a more realistic view of the world and kept the young woman grounded and balanced. In their early years, Raven had spent days at museums and libraries, and nights cuddled up reading with her mom. The little Falconer girl had cut her literary teeth on Dr. Seuss, Boxcar Children and Nancy Drew before she advanced to better-known stories such as Little Women and Pride and Prejudice. An author’s ability to create, as well as destroy, had left a lasting impression with the young Raven, and she'd held nothing back in expressing her desires to her father.

Raven, on this lonely morning, couldn’t help but feel she was fulfilling the last words she’d heard escape from her mother’s lips. Rave, she’d breathlessly whispered above the sound of the machines keeping her alive, take care of your dad . . . he loves you so, . . . so much. Her mom’s eyes had closed for what Raven thought would be the last time, but then, with heroic effort, Lilith had summoned the strength to impart her final thought. Be happy, you . . .you know who you are. Make . . . me . . . proud.

In the quiet of her small SUV, a trail of tears streaked down from her sea-blue eyes and splashed on her lap, where the denim of her jeans quickly absorbed them. She missed her mom and on days when life was too much and discouragement clutched at her heart, she openly and vocally spoke to her. Answers, once audible and very real, played through her head, giving her the assurance she needed to carry on. She couldn’t explain it and friends had passed the phenomena off as just her mind telling her what she wanted to hear, but inwardly she knew it was more than memories and synapses. Raven believed a very real connection existed between the ‘here and now’ and the beyond. Perhaps the dead were only a whisper away, anxious to extend a helping hand or utter some needed advice. Regardless, Raven cherished the memory of her mother and the still small voice that echoed in her mind, the lilt and tone unmistakably her mom’s.

I can do this. I can do this! she said aloud, lifting her coat’s sleeve to her cheeks and wiping the tears away. Mom, I will make you proud. With the negative vibes pushed from her mind, the aspiring author drove on, running apocalyptic scenarios through her head and creating death and destruction for her characters to overcome.

She thought it odd that her first big break would come from a short story she’d written in her last semester of English Literature. Receiving an ‘A’ was all she expected from the assignment, not realizing that her professor had submitted the work to a creative writing competition and she’d won. Raven had actually chosen the Zombie-ish theme more as a joke than an interest. The agency presenting the $500 reward had also extended a publishing opportunity, contingent upon her writing a novel based on the short story. The assignment was taxing, taking her creativity to new, unexplored limits but it was a welcome challenge. Her father had taught her to be grateful for such exercises, ‘for from such, greatness was born’. Raven wasn’t convinced the novel would be great but she recognized it for what it was, a stepping stone on a path to her destiny.

As she’d expected, the carbonated drink hit her bladder at about Banff, where she pulled into a convenience store and gas station for a much needed bathroom break. Her flawless alabaster skin reflected back at her from the bathroom’s mirror; red eyes and parched lips, paled by the cool mountain air, could not hide her impeccable beauty. She mustered a smile before exiting the less than pristine public washroom, being careful to open the door with a paper towel held around the knob.

The little shop was busy for an early morning, travelers were buying up snacks for the hours ahead and locals picked up the morning paper to peruse while they walked their dogs. Raven cruised the narrow aisles until she found a cinnamon bun and small bottle of chocolate milk. Suddenly the line at the checkout was much longer than it had been only moments before. Looking about, she noted an influx in early-morning shoppers, some still wearing bathrobes and slippers. What the hell? At the counter she was greeted by a smiling, yet obviously bored teenager, who rang her items through the register before saying a word.

You seen what’s happenin’ this mornin’? he asked, tipping his head toward the stack of newspapers to his left.

No, what’s up? Raven inquired, reaching for the upper most paper and lifting it into view. From behind she overheard the start of a heated exchange between a heavyset woman with a bandana wrapped around her head and a trucker.

You don’t need all those batteries. Give me a couple before I take ‘em all! The gruff, unshaven driver warned, reaching into the red basket the woman had stockpiled with batteries, candles and matches. Throwing a meaty elbow at the bigger man, the woman made a dash for the door, her loot swinging comically as she ambled across the parking lot. Crazy wench, he slurred under his voice, as he jostled with other shoppers for the quickly vanishing items littering the shelves.

Uh, you worried about this? Raven asked, pointing at the woman running across the lot.

Not really, that’s my mom, the youth responded, without giving it a second thought. So, do you want the paper? he asked, his voice rising to be heard above the increasing agitation that was building in the background.

Sure, what do I owe you? Raven pulled a handful of toonies from her purse and paid for the items, offering a cheerful, Thank you, as she left the store.

Outside, the mountain air was frosty, far cooler than she could remember from years past, causing her to clasp her jacket with a couple of quick snaps. As she walked toward her vehicle, she scanned the paper but immediately directed her eyes forward when she heard a voice shout, Hey, look at all the stuff in the back of this little baby. Ahead and peering into the back of her SUV was a tanned, shoeless vagabond so typical of the crowd attracted by Banff’s beauty and laidback lifestyle. A mangy mutt sat at his heels, nipping at what must have been an unseen horde of nits and fleas. Seconds later, two other wanderers, equally shabby and unkempt, joined their friend ogling the neatly packed stores, which the roommates had carefully loaded.

Excuse me, but could you move away from there? That’s my car and those are my provisions. I’d appreciate it if you’d kindly leave, Raven ordered, being careful to keep her distance from the ragtag lot.

Oh, hey gorgeous, we’re just checking it out. You look like you can spare some of this stuff. How ‘bout you give us a box? The original viewer asked, taking an aggressive step in her direction.

Listen, I don’t want any trouble. I . . .

Miss, you need some help? It was the voice of the trucker she’d overheard inside.

Well, yeah. These, a . . . men seem to think they’re entitled to my belongings.

That right boys? he asked.

Butt out, Bozo, one of them shouted, pulling a small knife from his pocket and slashing the air. Raven immediately stepped behind the trucker, who was unfazed by the show of potential violence.

That’s what I love about you morons, you’re never quite prepared, are you? he questioned, as he reached into the back of his jeans and pulled a black pistol from the small of his back. I’d have been more impressed if you would have brought a gun to this party. Let’s see how fast you and your dog can scatter.

The three, including the mutt, seemed a bit puzzled, unsure if they should fight or fly but ultimately decided on the latter when the gun-toting driver stepped forward and leveled the gun at the mouthy crew. That’s what I thought, he said, before turning back to Raven and tipping his hat. Ma,am, and he was on his way.

Seated in her car she unwrapped the bun, laid the newspaper across the steering wheel and read the front page – Unknown Virus Takes Canada by Storm. Seemingly overnight the annual flu had changed from widespread, to epidemic, filling hospitals beyond capacity and straining the very limits of the health care system. Deaths, though unconfirmed in number, were reported in several hospitals as those affected were initially hit with an acute lung infection, followed quickly by excessive fluid, cough and a general malaise. Health officials were baffled, unsure of the source or strain of bug they were dealing with, but multiple agencies were aggressively culturing and testing the afflicted to localize the contagion. It was certainly a variant and not anything for which the population was already immunized. Citizens were cautioned to stay home, if they were able, but if not, to use the usual precautions instituted during flu season: wear a mask as needed, wash your hands frequently, and avoid contact with others.

Holy! she said, laying her head back against the rest. Bobi! Raven immediately grabbed her phone and called her little friend. There was no answer. Seconds later a text message was on the way, requesting Bobi’s whereabouts and more information in regards to the outbreak. Bobi was in her last year of a medical technician program but worked part time at a local lab, honing her skills and keeping her foot in the door of future employment. Of her three roommates, Raven knew Bobi would be the one to have a handle on what was happening. She waited, hoping a reply would shake her phone before getting back on the road. Looking out the windshield she watched patrons coming and going, their coffee steaming and sending curls of mist into the air. One gentleman with a large, tethered retriever stopped at the store’s entrance and coughed, bending over violently before spitting a great glob of yellow debris to the ground. Gross! she said, just as her phone alerted her to an incoming message.

Bobi had been in the shower and was getting ready to leave. She’d received a notice that morning asking her to forego the day off and come into work. The facility needed all the help they could get as they were being overwhelmed with medical lab requests. She’d heard nothing more but would text again if she learned anything further. Raven replied with a short but sincere, Be careful!

Back on the road she referred to the map, making sure not to miss the main turn-off that would lead her up the mountainous grade to the remote cabin. Smugs had been there a few days before, making it inhabitable and splitting a month's worth of firewood. Raven had been delighted when the ‘all’s a go’ note had come from her eccentric uncle. Herbert, or Smugs as he was called, was the oldest of his mother’s surviving siblings; a strange, yet loveable old goat that cared little for civilization but loved his niece like a daughter. He’d only passed briefly in and out of Raven’s life before Lilith’s death. At her funeral he’d recognized the need to step in and play a more active role, becoming an important part of the young girl’s journey. Over the years, the self-appointed responsibility had been a blessing rather than a duty for the aging man. Raven had gladdened his home and brought joy to his heart, where so often his daughter had brought disappointment and grief. The girl, no longer a child but a woman of 30, was currently doing 90 days in a women’s correctional facility in Lethbridge, Alberta for writing bad checks.

The last portion of the drive was slow and tedious; switchbacks and narrow passes reduced her progress to a crawl but finally, after what seemed like hours, she arrived. The modest, one-story cabin, nestled amongst a grove of ancient trees, was just as she remembered it. Perhaps it stood a little more weatherworn than she recalled but it was a welcomed sight after the long drive. Stepping from the SUV, she stretched and fastened her jacket, mist rolled from her mouth and nose in the mid-morning air. She inhaled deeply, enjoying the clean mountain scent that surrounded her. Raven contemplated unpacking but put it off, at least momentarily, while she took in the scenery and the splendor of the location.

From the front of the cabin a rudimentary drive had been worn into the overgrowth of forest lichens, most likely the result of Smugs’ frequent visits. The lush, green expanse that stretched before her was breathtaking. Rivers and dense forestation spread out in every direction, but it was the peace and calm of the scene that spoke to her heart. Where else could she make her dreams come true? Well, I better get at it, she said, returning to her vehicle to begin the task of unloading.

An hour later she was seated at the kitchen table, her laptop computer open and ready to begin the work that lay ahead. She’d brought everything to the table that she thought she might need: notepad, complete with a pile of notes she’d already compiled, pens, cell phone and a cold can of Dr. Pepper. In her mind she’d made the decision to start the manuscript again, using the few chapters she’d already written as ground work and build from there. It would flow more consistently, she reasoned, if the text was worked through from start to finish rather than trying to salvage what little she’d already done. She suspected it would ultimately require less work and would provide a better end product.

Okay, where to start? she questioned. It was a dark and rainy night; somehow the cliché kept jumping into her thoughts so she put it down, knowing it would be the first line to be completely deleted. At least it’s a start. She hammered away at the computer for a time, getting the first 2500 words entered. Raven read, and then re-read each line, confirming the punctuation, verb tenses and overall direction the story was taking. Happy with the prologue and first chapter she pulled herself away from the table and made a peanut butter sandwich that she consumed while sitting on the front porch. It was perfect; her mind was clear, she’d already had some doors open up in her thought process through which her characters could pass, bringing excitement and an unusual twist to the story. The woman felt a little euphoric, a thrill she’d not quite expected. The sensation brought an easy smile to her face but then, as was her nature; she remembered her friends and the troubles she’d left behind.

Jumping to her feet she retrieved the phone from the table and checked it for texts; the only note was a reminder from work that her check would be automatically deposited in a few days. Where’s Bobi’s update? Concern and fear suddenly replaced the joyful mood she’d felt only moments before. Her first thought was to text but then decided speaking to her friend would be worth the few extra dollars it would