It is now 2036, only 24 years since the most devastating of a series of international accords, one simply known as The Agreement, set the precedent for many that followed – effectively causing the federal government to collapse into ruin and dependency on corporatist rule.
Unrestricted fracking and irresponsible mining practices have caused major watersheds and underground streams to become contaminated, the precious fluid - noxious.
The sole purpose of The Coalition, a regulatory body created by the world-wide conglomerates that took over the governing of the country is to ensure the profitability of its corporate members.
In Yukon, Canada’s far north, a baker’s dozen of unknown, everyday people and one dog are loosely thrown together in an effort to combat The Coalition and its impact on Canadian lives and the environment.
Join Landon, Nora, Galen and the others who, through no design of their own, have become the unknown hope for Canada’s future. Will they prevail in the small jurisdiction they reside in and set the bar for the rest of Canada?
Only time will tell.
Norm’s latest project is a novel titled, "From Thine Own Well," a story about a dystopian Canadian society brought about by unrestricted gas fracking and irresponsible mining techniques. It all began with a FIPA agreement in 2012 that left the federal government open to lawsuits - that they lost.
Norm has written one non-fiction book, "The Digital Eye." It is a compilation of articles for people wanting to improve their photography skills or for those who want to learn digital photography. This book is available as a paperback on Amazon, and as an eBook on Amazon Smashwords, Kobo and other online retailers.
Contact the Author
Please Note : For the first 2 weeks of February (duration of the Tour and the week after) The book will be available for a reduced price of $2.99
The vastness west of Whitehorse was bathed in a golden glow as the sun rose over McIntyre Mountain. No stirring of animals or ruffling of birds signalled the beginning of the day; there hadn’t been any for over 15 years.
Landon McGuire grunted as he rolled over on the makeshift bunk in his cabin at the south end of Coal Lake. He squinted against the blazing sunlight that flooded the single window beside the wooden slab door. The smell of the rough-sawn plank floor permeated the air and dust particles sparkled in the glowing rays that streamed through the chinks in the walls. The 45-gallon drum wood stove in the corner had seen better days as a pile of fine ashes dribbled on the floor beneath its door.
He swung his legs over the side of the bed and pushed his six-foot frame to a sitting position. His head ached from the effort to drown his memories with home-distilled spruce gin. Gawd, he thought, my mouth tastes like sap. Breakfast was out of the question. After pulling his greying hair back and securing it into a pony-tail with an elastic band, he scoured the floor for his clothes.
His mind wandered back to the years he’d worked in mining exploration, spending weeks at a time in the wilderness staking claims. It had been a wonderful period in his life; time outdoors and Wenda waiting at home when he came back. He remembered the mines taking pains to ensure they caused as little interference to the environment as was humanly possible.
Then it had all changed. After The Agreement, the mining industry got careless in their approach to resource extraction. He became saddened and ashamed to be a part of it. His sadness had turned to despair when Wenda died. It was then that he had quit and moved to the cabin. He still questioned if the carelessness of the mines or oil and gas companies had contributed to her death. Since then, he’d sought solace as a recluse and had as little to do with other people as possible.
A scratching on the floor from beneath the mattress interrupted his thoughts and announced the awakening of his husky-shepherd cross dog, Bob. Landon interrupted his search to watch as Bob stretched, pointing one hind leg at a time behind him. Then, ears up and tail switching back and forth, he wiggled his white and black body over to Landon.
“What d’ya think, Bob? Should we head out to the horseshoe?” His question was met with a vigorously wagging tail. Landon was planning a hike to a hidden location where he could collect fresh water without having to purchase it from The Coalition.
His eyes took in the cabin—spartan, but always kept clean and tidy. Wenda had always insisted their home be spotless. A cracked mirror on the wash stand reflected a day's growth of stubble on his leathered face that he decided could wait another day. He pulled on an old pair of blue jeans and shoved his socked feet into a pair of well-worn boots. The early August sun beat down on the cabin as he stuffed a warm fleece and waterproof jacket into a backpack in preparation for the drop in temperature during the hike into the mountains.
Things have sure changed, he thought as he strapped a 44-magnum around his waist and slid a pair of throwing knives into sleeves prepared for them on his bandoleer. He could remember when there was no need for weapons other than a rifle in case of bears. Now, with the water situation, it was desperate people that were of more concern. After slinging a .308 calibre Winchester over his right shoulder, he headed out the door with Bob following close behind.
As soon as they were in the open, Landon stopped to listen, peering in all directions, looking for any indication of others. Satisfied that no one was around, he grabbed the handle of the cart with the empty water vessels and struck off on the 14-kilometre trek to the crescent-shaped bowl west of his cabin near Coal Lake that had been formed by the Ibex volcano in some distant past.
Clean water was no longer readily available as it was in the days before The Agreement. Even the water near his cabin was suspect. They were headed for one of the few spots left where the water ran clean and pure.
Landon smiled, noticing the forest trail was showing signs of lack of use as the vegetation began to overgrow it. He always liked it when nature reclaimed its space. As they walked, Landon kept an eye on Bob, watching for any reactions to their surroundings. The dog could feel, instinctively, when someone, or something, was near.
- One $10 Amazon Gift Certificate for the best Review on the tour (will be selected by an unbiased Judge)
- One eBook to a random commentor on the tour posts