Episode 1 Scene 3
The days following the quake appeared normal in Saskatoon. Sure, the power was erratic, and things broke down more, but this wasn’t unusual. Life proceeded as it always did in the summer. Roads were repaired, people had barbecues, and everything was good.
Then the situation began to change. Slowly but surely, weird shit started occurring. Stuff disappeared, pets mainly. People were concerned. They called the cops, we responded. We acted concerned, but it was animals we were talking about here. Cops had priorities, and our four-legged companions didn’t rate highly. If you wanted to get your pussy out of a tree, call the fucking fire department.
A short time later, homeless people became an issue. They disappeared too. Well-known regulars downtown could no longer be found. No one knew where they’d gone. Their disappearance concerned the charities and church groups. The city fathers turned a blind eye. This wasn’t something they worried about. The city mothers didn’t give a shit either.
It was only when strangers started showing up that Joe Citizen paid attention. These new strangers were recognizably human, yet they acted in ways that were different. It was subtle, but they just didn’t fit in. They were out of time, out of their own time.
Eventually, the cops noticed the changes as well. These unfamiliar homeless people knew things and carried items that were just wrong. They had diseases that had supposedly been eradicated or, more worrisome, diseases that were completely resistant to the most up-to-date medicinal drugs. People, modern-day people or, more accurately, current-day people, responded in the most typical way possible; they turned inward. Family, neighborhood, religion, community—whatever grouping felt safest—these were the alliances people formed.
We, the cops, were neutral. At first. We were the front line. We put out the fires. The citizens were our responsibility. Everything else might be falling apart, but you could rely on the police. We tried to keep the peace. Times, however, were changing. The situation inside the police force was also changing. We were no longer unified. Our weapons and training couldn’t cope with the increasing number and groups of interlopers, groups like the War Clans and the Scythers. Shit was happening that we didn’t understand, and the higher-ups weren’t helping.
The overall response was predictable. Those with money and power, which most definitely included our bosses, dug in. They formed the first of the truly weaponized enclaves. They had the big guns and the equipment. A lot of the cop force went with them, and who could blame them? The enclaves had the firepower, and they needed grunts to man the weapons. It was a good fit. Some of them survived. Some didn’t. No one cared either way. They were pricks.
The remainder of the force stayed in the community. We weren’t saints, but the citizens deserved better than having the cops completely abandon them. Too bad we were next to useless, outmuscled by the past and outgunned by the future. The writing on the wall was so big, you could read it from space. We had to change.
After the initial skirmishes, one thing became clear. The world as we knew it was different. Not completely changed but changed enough. Time was blended, and it was up to us to adapt or die. And in the beginning, it was mainly about dying.