A Tour of Riverburg

The town of Riverburg, located in Northern Ontario, began as a small mining camp in 1864. It had continued to grow as the mine expanded, but faced a significant population crisis in the 1930s, when the iron vein was depleted and citizens began to leave, abandoning all but the center of the city. In the late 1940s, attention came back to the town when a small car factory was built there, and the still-inhabited town center was shaped to resemble the current downtown. The population rebounded, quintupling in the 1980s, and most of the houses, including those that both Clement and Andrew lived in, were built around this time period.

At the peak of economic growth in the 1980s the other side of the Little Severn, the small river that gave the town its name, began being developed to build larger houses for important factory executives and shareholders. This eventually became known as the Mansion District. Around this time, the factory owner developed a taste for philanthropy, giving generous gifts to the local school: his son enjoyed astronomy, so he had an observatory built, complete with the best telescope he could get his hands on, and a large monetary donation allowed a new school building to be built on the site of the old one. The factory owner left the city as a result of the economic crisis of the late 1990s, and his factory closed. Since then, the town was slowly haemorrhaging population due to labour shortages, with most moving to Alberta or closer to the better-developed southern Ontario. The last meaningful additions to the city had been the results of increased immigration in the late 2000s: a few various restaurants on Main Street (including the Yao family’s), and some gas stations on the outskirts of the city built by foreign investors.

Such was the city across which Clement pushed his pickup truck on that fateful day. Still very upset with Andrew for not listening, he did not spare the accelerator, hitting twice the speed limit on straight stretches of the road.

It was midday, but the streets in this part of town were deserted, and still more or less clear of debris, so he reached his family home without seeing any people, cars, or animals: no curious foxes or curious black squirrels usually so common to that area in sight.

He spent half an hour digging through supplies at his house, mostly gathering food and tools, and was in the process of loading the bags into the back of his truck, when he had an unpleasant thought. Looking around suspiciously, he moved the bags from the back into the back seats. Who knew what kinds of people he could meet as he was driving down the street…

Having left his own home, he drove down the very familiar path to Andrew’s house, the second stop of the scouting trip. The streets were just as empty, and Clement had second thoughts about knocking, lest he be greeted with the business end of a shotgun. He pulled over in front of their house, and spent a few minutes focusing and gathering up the courage to approach it.

After a few knocks, the door opened slightly, supported from the inside by a steel chain, and Andrew’s father greeted him. It was only after a short conversation confirming his intent that the door fully opened, and he was allowed in.

The rest of the visit was quite pleasant. Andrew’s parents and his brother Mike evidently hadn’t had many people to talk to except each other, so were eager to talk to new people, despite remaining extremely suspicious of outsiders. They offered him tea, which he gladly accepted, and talked of everything: the comet, the asteroids, the situation in town, and the Astronomy Club members’ plans for the future. They even offered the hospitality of their guest bedroom, and it wasn’t until he had explained to them just how much more he needed to accomplish before dark that they let him go. From the truck’s built-in camera Clement saw that an entire hour had passed. However, he was now richer by several bags of perishable foods Andrew’s family could not even dream of finishing, given that there were only three of them, and a bag of clothes for Andrew.

His next target was the churches. Not only was he tasked with assessing their capabilities, policies, and attitude towards newcomers, but he also wanted to see where the town’s first autonomous republic had originated. Unfortunately, before long a large barricade blocked his way. Two banners with hand-painted messages stood out the mass of furniture, spare tires, and cars: the first was a Bible verse that Clement recognized to be John 3:16 - “For God so loved the world, that He gave His only begotten Son, that whoever believes in Him should not perish but have everlasting life.” The second was a link which promised instructions on how to join them. Given how much debris and wreckage was in front of the barricade, Clement did not dare drive any further, resorting to simply taking a picture of the barricade, a second picture of just the link, and turning around.

His trip was slowly coming to its logical conclusion - just two more destinations remained, with neither sounding too promising. He turned around and pressed onwards, to the center of the city. Here, finally, he began to spot signs of life. A few kids were playing in a public park on the riverside, their parents hunched in a group, a raccoon was feasting on uncollected trash, and a car was smoking lazily on the curb. He drove past a ragtag group holding shovels that was supposed to be a patrol, swerved to avoid the remnants of a police barricade, turned left on a familiar street, and found himself face to face with the Riverburg General Hospital.

The last time he was here was four years ago, when he came to visit Andrew who had been brought in for one of his many sports-related injuries. He smiled at the recollection of how happy his friend was to see him, but then immediately frowned. Times had evidently changed, and their friendship was souring faster than ever. Frustrated, he snapped back to reality. He was there on a mission, after all. He drove up the street and closer to the five-story brown brick building, and beheld a peculiar picture.

Most of the street leading up to the building was littered with rocks, sticks, and other improvised weapons. In the middle, an intact police barricade blocked the entrance. The bright white of the barricade was muddied in some places, bloodied in others, and completely burned out where a car - now only slightly smoking - had tried to ram into it. A fire truck with a water cannon and several armed, masked police officers guarded it, choosing to communicate with the world through a banner just like the Christians had. A hand-painted banner not unlike the previous one, warned anyone on the street: “Trespassers will be shot. Call 9-1-1 for admittance to the hospital.” Clement sighed - another bust. Why did everyone choose to communicate with banners all of a sudden? He took a picture of this barricade as well, and turned around his trick, making sure not to rev the engine too hard as to not attract attention and potentially get shot at. One place to go.

Given the carnage he had witnessed, Clement chose to avoid Main Street, because he knew that the main forces of the Assembly would be patrolling it. They were deemed by the Astronomy Club members as the most unpredictable and dangerous, and so contact with them would have to wait until more information was gathered. He turned on the side road they had selected on their maps as the least likely to contain patrols. He drove down the deserted street in peace, only occasionally feeling like he was being watched by scared eyes from the windows. He found it very depressing how quickly the previously cheerful, welcoming, and accommodating town had become scared, self-serving, and violent.

Finally, he turned onto Queen Street, having bypassed all of downtown without any problems, and continued towards his final goal - the bridge to the Mansion District.

Here, the fighting and rioting was not as intense as the other areas - at times it even resembled his own quiet street or the calm stretch of King Street leading to their school. As he approached the bridge, he noticed with a great deal of relief that the barricades weren’t as tall, there were no threatening messages inscribed on them, and even the officers guarding them were not masked. Maybe this leg of the trip would not be in vain, after all.

He pulled over at what he deemed a reasonable distance, locked his doors, and approached the officers with his hands raised high above him to avoid confusion.