Chapter 1
The world had gone mad.
Mike stared out through the spiderweb of cracks in the windshield of his truck wondering when the nightmare had begun. Below the hill where he was parked, houses and cars burned, a pall of dark smoke rising into the air.
Figures wandered in apparent confusion, occasionally stopping to lean over a still bundle on the ground as if to comfort an injured friend.
Mike wished he could believe it was comfort that was being offered. In the past few hours he had come to understand just how wrong that impression was. The windshield and gore encrusted truck paid mute testimony to that.
He wiped a tear away. Was there any point in going on? The odds against survival seemed so high. Maybe giving into the chaos was the only sane thing left to do.
"Scouter Mike?" a young male voice from the back seat called.
Mike ignored it and continued to look out at the devastation, despair growing in his mind with each passing moment.
"Dad? Are you okay?" the boy beside him asked, shaking his arm.
Mike focused on him. "Hmm? Oh, Kyle? Sorry!" He shook his head to clear the fuzziness, finally seeing his son.
The boy, a young man really with just the beginnings of a moustache, looked afraid, but determined. Mike looked at the three other boys, all the same age as his son, in the rear view mirror of the truck. They too looked both afraid and determined.
That determination pushed the feelings of doubt and self pity aside. "Sorry, guys. For a moment there, I wasn't sure what to do next."
Kyle kept hold of his father's arm. "We need you, Dad. Stay with us. You taught us about survival and survival shelters all weekend. We'll just have to use what we learned a little sooner than we expected."
Kyle laughed and the other boys joined him. The laughter was forced, but it was there.
Out of the chaos, that little bit of order brought Mike fully back from the edge. Of course, Kyle was right. They were Scouts and it was their oath to help make their community and world at large a better place. This really was no different. Just a LOT bigger problem than any of them had ever imagined.
“Okay, boys. The first thing we need to do is get back to the others and figure out just what we can do.”
***
The survival camp had started out innocently enough. The five Scoutmasters had driven out of the city in a convoy, each with a few of the boys in their respective vehicles. It wasn't quite regulation, but the parents had all agreed that it was the best way to handle the three hour drive away from civilization.
They had left the city early and arrived at the campsite well before lunch, driving off the logging road and back into the trees, and out of view. The area was perfect for the task. A government free land use zone, anyone could use. It was heavily treed with plenty of water and space.
"Okay, boys," Scouter Steve said when everyone was together and stretching out the kinks and stiffness from the long drive. "Some of you have done this before and for others of you, this is your first time." He stopped speaking long enough to ensure he had everyone's attention.
"The purpose of this camp is to learn how to deal with a disaster. The scenario is, we have been in a plane crash on the way to a jamboree. We have to set ourselves up to survive until help comes."
“In the cold?” one rather pale boy asked. He stood near the front of the group in sneakers, blue jeans and a thin hoodie. He was rubbing his arms with his hands and jumping from foot to foot.
“Carl, what did we talk about last meeting?” Scouter Steve asked.
Carl shrugged, “I don’t know. I wasn’t there.”
Scouter Steve shook his head. “Come on man. You’re a second year. It was the same thing we talk about before every camping trip. You don’t wear blue jeans because they won’t keep you warm. You wear the right footwear for the outdoors and you make sure you have the right jacket. You know this.”
“Well, I packed those things,” Carl said.
“They won’t do you any good in your luggage,” Scouter Steve said. “While we’re talking you get changed.” When the boy hesitated, Scouter Steve made a shooing motion. “Quickly! We’re all waiting.”
The boy ran to the red van he had arrived in and started digging for his bags.
Scouter Mike stepped forward, facing the boys. "What kinds of things do you think we need to survive?"
A tall, thin, freckled boy with a shock of brown hair peeking out from under a fluorescent orange toque was the first to speak. "Shelter? Food?"
"Shelter definitely. We have no idea what the weather will be like and we need some protection from the elements. Food is important too. Anybody else?”
A small blonde boy piped up then. "Weapons?"
"Why would you say weapons?" Scouter Mike asked.
"Protection from animal attacks," the boy promptly replied. "You know, bears, cougars, wolves...."
"I don’t think weapons are as necessary as some of the other things. We’re a big enough group that animals will probably avoid us."
"But, they might attack us. You don't know that they won't."
"No, Trevor, you're right. I don't know that we wouldn't be attacked. I suppose a weapon could be useful in that particular case. However, in this situation, we won’t be handing out weapons.” Scouter Mike looked around at the group. "Anything else we might need to survive?"
A number of answers flew out of the crowd of boys then. "Warm clothes, fire, a bathroom, an SOS signal."
"Now you're getting the idea," Scouter Mike said. "But there's one very important thing you need that you haven't mentioned and that is clean water to drink.”
A flash of understanding passed through the boys and they all looked at each other, nodding their heads.
Scouter Mike grinned then. "As it turns out, we were on our way to jamboree so our plane happened to have all the supplies we will need to survive. Cooking gear, sleeping bags, tools to build shelters and, of course, clean drinking water.”
Several of the leaders laughed and even a few of the boys smiled.
Scouter Mike nodded to Scouter Steve. “They’re all yours.”
Scouter Steve smiled. “Okay, gentlemen. What I need you all to do is build your shelters, set up your cooking area and get your camp into order. Patrol leaders, please get your patrols together and make it happen. Everything you need is in the back of the trucks."
The three patrol leaders broke away from each other in a well-practiced movement, calling out to their patrols.
“Eagle Patrol, assemble on me,” Scout Todd called, walking over the stand next to the dusty red van driven by Scouter Connall. He waved his arms to draw attention as he called. Four boys responded, picking their way through the uneven snow to reach him.
“Wolverine Patrol. Come on over here,” Scout Kyle called. He stood next to the blue Ford Super-crew driven by his father, Scouter Mike. Four boys quickly surrounded him.
“Cougar Patrol. Let’s go!” Scout Martin said quietly. His patrol had already surrounded him when he called. The Cougar patrol quickly marched out into the trees near the vehicles to scout out a location for their shelter.
The five leaders gathered together to watch, fielding the occasional question from the Scouts. The men watched in approval as the boys systematically pulled the camp together, building shelters, setting up latrine facilities and putting the camp kitchen together.
***
“Well boys, how do you feel about the survival shelters you all built today?” Scouter Steve asked. “Do you think you’ll be warm sleeping in them tonight?”
A pudgy, dark-haired boy was the first to speak. “Are we really going to sleep in those shelters, Scouter Steve? I mean, they’re just lean-to’s with spruce bows piled over them.”
Scouter Steve smiled, ignoring the eye rolls from several of the Scouts around the fire. “Carl, where else do you think we might sleep tonight? We don’t have tents set up and you can’t sleep in any of the vehicles. The closest house is miles away and besides, your sleeping bag and ground pads are already in your troop’s shelter.”
“But, won’t it be cold?”
Another Scouter, Jeremy, spoke up. “You will be sharing the shelter with the rest of your troop. You will be plenty warm.”
“But….”
“Give it a rest, Carl,” one of the other boys said. “I know this is your first survival shelter camp, but it isn’t mine. I’m expecting my best sleep of the year out here. No street noise and nice fresh air.”
That seemed to quiet the boy.
“Just remember what we talked about. Change into dry clothing before bed. You go to bed in wet clothes and you will be cold,” Scouter Steve said.
One of the boys, Peter, put up his hand.
“Yes, Peter? You have a question?” Scouter Steve asked.
Peter stood and looked thoughtful. “More of a comment, than a question.”
“Is it relevant to sleeping in survival shelters?”
“Well, not really. I’m just wondering what we are doing for our next meeting,” Peter said.
Scouter Mike looked at the boy. “Peter, that isn’t for another week. What say we worry about that then, okay?”
Peter got a pained expression on his face. “Okay.”
“Thanks, Peter,” Scouter Mike said.
“So guys, why don’t we sing some campfire songs,” Scouter Steve said. “Anybody have any suggestions?”
A blonde boy wearing a lime-green houque straightened. “How about we sing ‘On top of spaghetti’?”
“Good idea, Everett,” Scouter Steve said. “Does everyone know the words?” He waited until he had a general nodding of heads. “Okay, great! Everett, you want to get us started?”
The boy grinned and began to sing. “On top of spaghetti, all covered with cheese, I lost my poor meatball when somebody sneezed.”
By the word, ‘spaghetti’, most of the boys were singing. By the end of the second verse all the adults were singing too. All except Scouter Mike and his son Kyle. The two had wandered away from the light of the fire to stargaze.
The Scouts were on their third song when Scouter Mike and Scout Kyle returned on the run.
“Scouts! Come with me quickly. You will never believe the meteor shower!” Scouter Mike called.
The Scouts looked at him bewildered until Scout Kyle spoke up. “Come on guys. It’s amazing. Shooting stars are coming down in curtains!”
That was enough to convince the troop. They all got up and followed Kyle away from the fire and through the trees to a large meadow. The troop let out a collective gasp of amazement. Above them, it looked like the heavens were raining streaks of light.
“What do you think it is?” One of the smaller, first year scouts named Ricky asked.
The resident sky expert, Scouter Shaun, answered. “This time of year it’s probably the Orionids meteor shower. Do you all know why we have meteor showers?”
Any nodding or shaking of heads was lost in the darkness, so he continued to speak. “Normally meteor showers occur when the Earth passes through debris left behind by comets as it orbits the sun.”
“Will any hit the ground and kill us?” a young, worried voice called out.
“No, Nathan. Most of the debris is just dust and ice. It will burn up before it hits the ground. Anything that doesn’t burn up will be too small to notice,” replied Scouter Shaun.
He had just finished speaking when a particularly bright meteor streaked across the sky toward the ground. It was markedly different from the other streaks both in brightness and due to the fact it was travelling in the opposite direction.
“That’s odd,” Scouter Shaun said under his breath.
One of the other Scouters named Jeremy, standing beside him spoke quietly in his ear. “What’s wrong?”
“That last meteor shouldn’t have been able to do that. It’s travelling the wrong way across the sky,” Scouter Shaun replied to Jeremy in the same tone and volume.
“Don’t say anything. It will just worry the boys,” Scouter Jeremy said, still quietly. He raised his voice. “Okay fellas, let’s get back to the fire for mug-up. We have to be up early tomorrow to do Scout’s Own and head back to the city.
Flashlights clicked on and the Scouts all began to make their way back up to the fire, leaving Scouter Shaun to stand, watching the sky.