That Cameo Girl

Only the foolish or desperate dare to wander alone in the woods for it is the skyless domain of creatures who have evolved across eons to prey upon the lost, weak and wounded.

Laura knew she was desperate, but she had put as much thought into her plans as time had allowed. She ran it all through in her mind one last time.

The middle aged woman was no hunter; guns would not help her. But she did have some roadside flares in her camping gear and she had dressed head to toe in scentless black clothing. She hoped it would be enough to slink past whatever wildlife lay in wait in the shadows.

Civilian GPS access had long since been retracted, but using a lamp and a map risked exposing her position, so she'd have to follow Bear Creek. It was a route that might put her in the path of the outcasts rumored to shelter in camps somewhere along its banks, but she couldn't think about that now.

Whatever came her way, Laura decided she would face it with courage. She would rather die with her boots on than sit at home and wait for the fight to reach her doorstep. Rather cope with pain than withhold a message that could prevent the surrender of King and country to a decrepit tyrant and his sycophantic oligarchy.

The "Long Dark" was no longer just a video game.

Head high, a dirty, blistered and exhausted Laura swallowed a mouthful of raw creek water, smeared the sweat from her brow and stepped into the woods of Decew Falls, the last leg of her two day journey.

*

*48 Hours Earlier* Location: A Discord Chatroom June 2025

Thread Topic: "In the mid-20XX, the ongoing global economic crisis, fueled by continued political instability in the USA and Europe, contributed to increasing volatility in the financial markets, which led to the sudden catastrophic collapse of the Canadian, and in general, the North American banking system...Crippled economically, Canada was brought under the financial oversight of the North American Economic Zone, which positioned Canada as a kind of protectorate of a larger US-based economic bloc."

- Journal Entry 1 of the The Long Dark

Chat Transcript:

Dixiestrong75: How do you think the devs came up with this journal entry shit in 2014? You think they had access to long range intelligence or something?

FreeBird99: Dumb luck? Operation MD didn't even have a commander yet in 2014, let alone the AI required to create the xenosuit armor for the soldiers.

ThatCameoGirl87: ?? That big army machine you sit in and control its arms and legs? I saw those in the news. They're kinda scary.

FreeBird99: I train in them.

ThatCameoGirl87: ! sent gif. Swooning girl in bikini.

Dixiestrong75: Yeah. That'll be what ends the battle two days from now, at Beaver Dams you know. Southern Ontario doesn't stand a chance. It's near impossible to bring those things down with military grade explosives let alone hand to hand combat.

Dixiestrong75: Hand to hand is all the Canadians have left anyway.

FreeBird99: Hand to hockey stick you mean.

Dixiestrong75: Aha truth.

ThatCameoGirl87: Seriously though... don't yall ever worry the AI might turn on us one day? Fight its masters?

FreeBird99: skull emojix3 Not possible darlin'. The AI in the xenosuits... it responds to control words.

ThatCameoGirl87: Wdym 'control words'?

FreeBird99: I mean you speak a word in the auditory range of the robotics and they shut off. They fry their own chips and you have to pack 'em on flatbeds back to the factory and manually reinstall new ones.

Dixiestrong75: That's crazy. Why would they build that in?

FreeBird99: ¯\_(ツ)_/¯ Cuz that Terminator movie is no joke? They code it deep so the machine can't recognize its own trigger, and the army only tells the control word to a select group of trainees. It changes every 2 weeks.

ThatCameoGirl87: What is it now?

Long pause.

Dixiestrong75: He doesn't know it.

FreeBird99: Of course I know it. "Nizéé". It's Navahoe. Means "be quiet". Some old WWII reference.

FreeBird95: phonetic soundclip.

Laura's hands shook as she downloaded the Discord chat onto a USB. She almost couldn't believe it. Had she really overheard the key to defeating the Americans headed her way?

"Nizéé", she practiced, feeling the extended "ZEhhh" sound buzzing on her tongue. But now what? How could she pass along her information? She didn't exactly have the list of private emails for the Canadian Defense Department.

She ran her hands through her short brown hair as she realised the harsh truth of it. There was no way to know if the control word was true or not, but if she wanted to pass on the tip, she'd have to walk it to the front lines.

32 km away.

*12 Hours Until Battle* Location: Somewhere in Decew Falls

Fog descends rapidly in a forest after dusk, adding to the terror of the unseen like the breath of trapped spirits who wish you to join them in their purgatory. Laura's own breath disappeared into the misty shroud and she hoped beyond hope the twigs snapping nearby were the sounds of racoons or rabbits.

She considered throwing herself in the deep, swift creek. It was her only chance to put a barrier between her and whatever was trailing her footsteps. Wolves wouldn't follow. A bear might. But then what? She'd be too soaked and tired to continue.

Laura snapped her last flare and spun around prepared to fight.

CRACK!

The gunshot sounded more like a firecracker to her untrained ear. In a great thump that shook the earth, the bear who had been stalking her collapsed at her feet. Dead in one shot between the temples.

Laura gasped as she saw where the shot had come from. It was a man, not much older than herself but thinner, sort of wiry and caked in dirt that was much more compacted than the fresh layer on her own clothes.

He stood there panting, Tikka T3x hanging down at his side and they locked eyes. She could sense the adrenaline in his veins mirroring her own.

She didn't have the capacity left to offer a long winded explanation so she said simply,

"I'm headed for the front lines."

He nodded and flipped his chin in the direction she should take to follow him.

"So are we."

*

Half a kilometer later the man, Bill, as he had introduced himself, walked her into camp. It was a tent city larger than any she had ever seen; a gut wrenching monument to the housing crisis that had been flushing hard working Canadian citizens out of their homes for over a decade.

They were a collection of people who had been abused and forgotten by a system and its politicians who had prioritised their own self-grandeur over the needs of the people who had elected them.

Surely these folks had no incentive left to fight for the country that had betrayed them, Laura thought. But it seemed their poverty was unifying and sovereignty is a cause even the most peaceful of Canadians hold dear. The some 400 or so people were busy preparing for battle.

She felt encouraged by the idea that no matter how much infighting there may be between the provinces, a common enemy always unites a crowd, the same as it did for confederation centuries ago.

It appeared it was mutually understood that while internal politics could be reclaimed for the better, the loss of their homeland would not be so easy to regain.

Like Laura, they would rather go down fighting than surrender their true north, strong and free.

At first glance, the hodgepodge of horses, hunting rifles, bayoneted hockey sticks and old military vehicles appeared too ramshackle to make a difference, but against an army overly emboldened by what it assumed were impenetrable armored shells, all that was needed was to get the turtles on their backs to win.

And Laura knew how.

Along the way Laura had explained her message to Bill, and he rallied the crowd when they arrived. It chilled her blood in the best way to hear the word that might mean salvation chanted on repeat like a voyageur's song of old.

Laura had the USB in her pocket ready to hand to the general at the front line as Bill and a group of college aged kids ushered her onto an old Black Hawk painted with the phrase, "Je me souviens".

She laughed under her breath. Figured, she thought, leave it to the Quebecois to make sure it was an equal language moment.

Bill, who turned out to be a direct descendent of the WWI flying ace Billy Bishop, manned the helicopter and took off flying fast to the south. The chopper blades pounded like thunder and made conversation impossible.

One of the men onboard passed around a 2-6'er of Crown Royal for courage. Laura sank into the cold metal of the helicopter seat, swigged back her share and smiled at her fellow Canadians. Against all odds she had made it, laces still tight.

*

In the end, it was the Canadian victory at Beaver Dams that turned the tide and brought about an end to the fighting. The Canadians allowed the American soldiers who surrendered to return to their homes unharmed and they did so with changed hearts. Afterall, neighbours should never fight neighbours.

Only tyrants.

*

Author's Note:

The Canadian Legend of Laura Secord is a timeless example of ordinary people doing extraordinary things. She is to be remembered for more than the chocolate cameo that bears her name and likeness.

It was fate which placed Laura in the right place and time to aid Canada's fight for sovereignty from American invasion during the War of 1812. But it was loyalty to her country that sent her into the fray.

Several versions of her story exist, but the arc is always the same. In June 1813, Laura walked 32 km to relay critical intelligence information to British forces in time to thwart an American attack. The last leg of the journey, and the portion reimagined in this story, transpired in the dead of night through dangerous terrain. She risked her life armed only with the reckless determination of those who understand that the loss of freedom is the price we will all pay for staying politely in our safe, peaceful towns.

This journey would have been a lot to assume someone like Laura, an average, untrained, civilian-plain-Jane of middling age from Southern Ontario, could achieve — even if we allow for rewriting and modernisation of the tale.

But she did.

From one simple, middle-aged Southern Ontario woman to another who would do the same, Laura, this retelling is for you.

First published by Call Me Les on February 4th, 2025. All rights reserved.