by Nathan Jones
He hoped she pulled through.
To his relief just after he finished his meal there was a commotion behind the curtains where Terry was working on Jane, suggesting that the redheaded woman was awake and still had some fighting spirit left in her. A few moments later April emerged. “She insisted on talking to you, Matt.”
With a glance at Catherine, who nodded, Matt followed his sister back into the impromptu operating room.
Jane was propped up on the cot, one that had been designed to allow for reclining, with her shoulder bandaged and her arm bound to her chest in a sling. “What's going on?” she demanded.
Matt came to stand beside her. “We brought you to Aspen Hill. There's a bowl of soup waiting for you, and you're welcome to rest here until you're strong enough to join your group in whatever lodgings we find for them. I'm not sure if we'll be able to find you a house you can have to yourselves, but we should be able to find enough people willing to take in one or two of you to accommodate the group. Ben, the refugees' informal leader, has been doing a good job-”
Jane shook her head and cut in firmly. “No. We'll camp out if we have to but we're not splitting up. And we're not staying with refugees, either.”
Matt supposed he couldn't completely blame her for her suspicion. “The refugees have become regular citizens since moving into town. You'll be safe with them, I promise.”
“I don't care, we'll stay together.”
“All right.” Matt hesitated. There was something he'd been considering since Razor's attack, especially after the refugee camp north of town was abandoned. He hadn't talked to his family about it yet or even made up his mind, but it might provide a solution. Still, he couldn't make any promises until he'd explored the option further. “I'll talk to our Mayor, Catherine Tillman, about letting you all stay here in the storehouse until we figure something out. We'll do our best to find a solution everyone can live with.”
Jane hesitated, then seemed to relax a bit. “I suppose beggars can't be choosers. Thank you for helping us, by the way.” She turned to Terry. “And thank you. We would've had a lot of trouble dealing with a gunshot wound and you probably saved my life. Sorry for snapping at you earlier.”
“I'll go get you that bowl of soup,” Matt said, ducking through the curtains. He also wanted to talk to Catherine about his idea.
But when he entered the larger room he saw Catherine already busy speaking excitedly into her radio. Matt heard a confirmation through it, the continuation of a conversation he must've missed while talking to Jane, and the Mayor turned to give him an excited look.
“Matt! That was Pete and Evan, still patrolling the western border. They've spotted your father!”
Matt stopped dead, almost unable to think as a surge of stunned surprise, happiness, and overwhelming relief poured through him. He was still processing the news when Sam barreled into him and threw her arms around his chest, grinning up at him joyfully. Matt clutched her to him as he stared at the radio that had brought this news. “He made it? He's okay?”
Catherine nodded, still beaming. “Tired but unhurt as far as Evan could see. And he's got a loaded wagon with him.” The Mayor came over and rested a hand on his shoulder. “Looks like you've got a lot to be grateful for tomorrow. Happy Thanksgiving.”
Chapter Ten
Thanksgiving
When Catherine described the wagon as “loaded” it was a bit of an understatement. The narrow bed was stacked high enough to be top-heavy and altogether had to weigh a couple hundred pounds. His dad had covered it all in a tarp and tied it down, both to keep everything inside from spilling out and to at least partially hide the contents from unfriendly eyes.
Matt and the entire rest of the family met his dad at the edge of town, amid much hugging and celebration. His dad looked exhausted and even thinner than he had before he left, but other than that he was fine.
On the way back he briefly detailed his trip, although there wasn't much to say. He saw a few people on the way up and even briefly stopped to chat with someone who had a cabin along the road he was walking along. The visit was friendly enough, if wary, although from then on he tried harder to avoid notice in case someone was curious about him dragging an empty wagon behind him and decided to follow.
Those fears were never realized, and he met no one at the cache or on the way down, which luckily he was able to find without too much trouble thanks to Trev's ruined car, which had been gutted by fire since Matt and Trev had passed it with April and her family. He did have to be a bit careful while digging up the food since refugees continued to walk along Highway 6, in smaller numbers but far more ragged and desperate, and he did most of that at night in the dark.
In truth his greatest enemy on the trip was his own body. On the way there he was beset by weakness and found almost no food to sustain him, and little enough water. Once he arrived he had to rest for a day to recover his strength, and was somewhat ashamed that he had to eat more in order to have the energy to tow the loaded wagon back down.
That took by far the longest out of anything, twice as long as the trip up, and would've been impossible if he wasn't transporting food and water. He tried to limit what he ate, thinking of the family going hungry back at home, but he found that if he skimped he quickly exhausted himself and barely made any progress, and finally decided it was more important to get the food there fast than to save a bit extra. There was always more at the cache.
His dad was shocked to learn everything that had happened in town while he was gone, and while he was delighted that Ferris had left and Razor was gone he still grieved that he hadn't been there to protect his family and town during the attack. He was very proud to learn of everything his son had done, although Matt tried to keep the story accurate as the rest of the family exaggerated his heroics. His father was proud of Terry as well, and approved of his decision to open a clinic.
All in all the rest of the day was a celebration. They had their first real meal in weeks, and while Matt did excuse himself to get back to his duties defending the town, and Terry and Sam did a shift in the clinic over the afternoon, that evening they took the time to rest and appreciate all they had. They also made plans for the future, first and foremost retrieving the rest of the cache.
Matt had his own plans formulating, which he'd briefly spoken over with the Mayor and gotten her approval for. He didn't want to say anything yet until he'd used the key she'd given him and checked things out, and until he was sure it was a good option he wanted to save it as a surprise for his family.
He'd tell them tomorrow, after Thanksgiving dinner.
As the evening settled into night his mom, April, and Sam began talking over preparations for the holiday meal. Matt agreed that when he went into town in the morning to repay the food they'd borrowed over the last week he'd try to trade some wheat for meat, to give the meal more variety. Although he doubted turkey would be on the menu.
Too bad they weren't in Sanpete on the other side of the mountains, where he'd encountered dozens of turkey sheds stinking up the air on some days while driving to other places in the area. Then again, it was anyone's guess whether any turkeys remained with such critical food shortages.
Once everyone else had headed up to their rooms Matt and Sam stayed down on the couch for a while talking about their own plans for the future. Nothing formal, although they both seemed to be constantly edging around the topic.
Matt had an idea there, too, something he'd been contemplating for a long time but had kept quiet about because conditions weren't right for the topic. Now that his dad was back most of their problems were solved, and hopefully after he'd checked things out tomorrow their situation would be even more secure. Either way he'd save it as a surprise for after dinner the next day as well. Assuming he could get some help from his mom.
It was fairly late before they finally agreed they should get to bed. Since that first night after the attack Matt had permanently moved onto the couch to sleep, giving Sam his room. He prefe
rred it since it allowed him to keep watch on the house while the rest of the family was safe upstairs, although he knew Sam felt bad about kicking him out. But for once she didn't mention it as he kissed her goodnight and settled in to sleep, looking forward to tomorrow.
It could be the most important day of his life.
* * * * *
Thanksgiving dawned clear and cold outside their hideout, something Trev was more than aware of as he got up to prepare their feast as best he could.
Lewis wouldn't go in for them gorging themselves on Thanksgiving, and he didn't relent in spite of the fact that the hunting, fishing, and trapping had been going fairly well for the last few weeks even with the temperature steadily continuing to drop and getting another foot or so of snowfall.
What his cousin would bend on, however, was variety. So Trev had spent the last few days going over all their food to select out small portions of everything. Their dinner would include rabbit, trout, fresh venison from the deer he'd brought down and skinned and quartered himself just yesterday, currants, beans, rice, wheat, chocolate, chili, jerky, jalapenos, and a wide variety of spices to cook them with. His cousin also produced a small container of powdered lemonade for an extra treat.
Trev had to be pretty creative finding ways to cook the small portions with the few dishes and utensils available to them without getting all the flavors mixed up. He also had to make three meals' worth of portions and promise Lewis they'd eat them over the course of the day. But when dinnertime arrived they came in from tossing around a crude ball his cousin had made from rabbit skin and pinecones and sat down to the meal he'd prepared.
Lewis wasn't hesitant in complaining about some of the offerings, and Trev would be the first to admit that his attempts were hit and miss. Even so they cleaned their plates with great enjoyment, washed it all down with slightly watered down lemonade, then bundled up again and dragged the chairs outside to sit and enjoy the view of the mountains across the canyon and to either side, as well as the strip of road meandering down below alongside the river, as the meal digested.
After a few minutes of contented silence Trev glanced over at his cousin. “I like the picture and all but it sure would be nice to change the channel.”
“To what?” Lewis asked, idly watching a few scattered clouds to the north slowly drift towards them. “I don't know about you but I haven't watched anything on an actual TV with actual channels in years.”
“Well good news, your streak is going to continue.”
His cousin smiled at that, and a comfortable silence settled between them for a few more minutes. Finally Lewis stirred. “Guess we should keep up the tradition, even if it's just us this year. I'm grateful for this hideout, for the supplies we have, and for the fact that we're pretty much all alone up here and if we do have any neighbors they're keeping to themselves as much as we are. Oh, and that chocolate earlier was really, really good.”
“Hey save something for me to be grateful for,” Trev complained. “Not much of that going around these days.” His cousin gave him a patient look. “Well I'm grateful for all that stuff too. And I'm grateful for the knowledge I've gained up here and the fact that we've been able to find ways to provide for ourselves, and that I didn't botch the job with the deer yesterday. I'm also grateful to have the best survivalist I know for a roommate.”
Lewis gave him a slightly mocking salute. “Well that's the tradition taken care of. Want to toss the ball around some more?”
“Not really. No offense but that thing kind of sucks.”
His cousin's response was to reach down and scoop up a handful of snow, packing it as he spoke. “I guess it's a snowball fight, then.”
Trev lunged sideways, tipping his chair over as the snowball zipped above his head. Grinning, he rolled over and came up to his knees, bringing an armful of snow with him that he hurled at Lewis. His cousin rose from his chair just in time to get a face full of powder, and with a bit of spluttering he bolted the other way to regroup.
Hastily scooping up a few quick snowballs to tuck under one arm, Trev lumbered through the couple feet of snow in pursuit. His aggression earned him a snowball to the face, and as he did his best to wipe his eyes more snowballs pelted him around the chest and shoulders. By the time he finally managed to launch his own counterattack Lewis was safely hidden behind a tree.
Trev closed the distance at an awkward run and circled around the obstacle until he could get a clear shot. But just before he was about to launch his snowball Lewis slammed his shoulder into the evergreen's narrow trunk and sent the accumulated snow on the branches pouring down on Trev's head.
He huddled against the unexpected shower, and before he could think of retreat he found himself tackled to the ground, thrashing as Lewis tried to bury his head in the snow. “Okay I give up!” he shouted.
Chuckling, his cousin helped him up. “You sure? You look better with a snow beard.” In spite of the ribbing Lewis also helped dust him off as they headed back to gather some things for their trip.
Now that the meal had settled a bit they'd agreed they would take the risk of leaving their hideout for a few hours to do some more long distance exploring. They hadn't seen any sign of refugees on the road since the group they'd helped, and if they did have any neighbors up here neither of them had seen any sign of them. Considering the fact that they'd kept to their patrols and regularly panned the surrounding mountainsides with their binoculars and hadn't come under any surprise attacks up to this point, Lewis was pretty certain either they were alone or anyone out there capable of staying out of their notice was content to live and let live.
Their day's route would take them north a few miles, to where the road curved up a hill alongside the slope of the earthen dam holding back Electric Lake. Lewis had pointed out that automated signs along the road and around the dam had solar panels they could scavenge, and if they were lucky and their stuff in the shelter remained in good condition over the winter then they could rig up a system to power them even after Ferris had stolen the solar panels and batteries his cousin had set up there.
Trev wasn't certain it was worth the effort, but then again he liked the idea of listening to music. Or watching a movie. Or reading one of the thousands of books his cousin had on his hard drives. He only wished they had that stuff up here so he wouldn't go insane with boredom over the winter.
They took one last careful look at the road below and the slopes around them for any sign of intruders, and once satisfied with their continued isolation locked up the hideout and icehouse and left. A determined thief could break in fairly easily, but they trusted the lean-to's seclusion and out of sight location to protect it for a short time as they followed the logging trail above the hideout heading north.
It would take them all the way to the hillside over the highway alongside the lake, where they could have a good view of most of it and see if anyone was around. Trev also brought his fishing gear just to try out the deeper water off the dam.
It was a bit of a hike, which felt good after being cooped up in the lean-to or sticking to the same patrol routes around their home. Trev watched his cousin's stride as they got farther along to see how his leg was doing, but if Lewis's injuries were still bothering him he showed no sign of it. Moving at a reasonably fast pace they reached the lake in under two hours and settled in behind cover to carefully search the area.
After about fifteen minutes Trev stood and gave his cousin a lopsided smile as he lifted his fishing pole. “Cover me, I'm going in.”
Lewis chuckled. “An ounce of prevention is worth an ounce of lead.” But he also stood and joined Trev as they followed the dirt road the rest of the way to the highway, where it was closed off by a sturdy metal gate.
Neither of them had the key for it, although they knew the people the land belonged to and had gotten their permission to walk along the road to where it ran through their stretch of land farther south. It was a family living somewhere in the eastern states who sometimes came for camping
trips and to boat on the lake and ride around their roads on ATVs. Trev had never talked to them, or for that matter seen them using their land. He doubted he ever would at this point, although life was full of surprises.
While he planted himself on the edge of the lake and tried his luck his cousin roamed the road looking for solar powered signs. They were mostly for things like construction warnings or to show the speed of passing cars, and Trev had to agree that they wouldn't be seeing much use now and would just go to waste if left there to rot.
An hour or so passed, and if the fish were there they certainly weren't biting. On the other hand when Lewis came back he was awkwardly carrying several bulky panels, and the cloth bag he'd brought was hanging from one elbow weighted down with the small batteries the signs used. “Well at least one of us was successful,” he said, glancing at Trev's empty pole and bare hands.
Trev nodded and reached over to take a few of the panels. “Should we go back and have the second meal of our “feast?”
His cousin nodded and started for the logging road with his prizes. “Enjoy it. It may seem like one of our moms' best laid tables from when we were younger by the time the spring thaws come.”
“We've got food for months!” Trev protested.
“Winter lasts a long time up here.”
That was unfortunately true, but Trev was still confident in the provisions they'd gathered. Although another fish would've been nice. He picked up his pace to walk beside his cousin.
* * * * *
They all knew they should exercise restraint with the food they had, which would have to last them all winter, but his mom insisted that after going hungry for so long it couldn't hurt to eat extra for one meal. Discounting the meals yesterday that had been larger than was strictly wise.
Matt couldn't complain. They had steaks traded from the town's meat supply, mashed potatoes smothered in olive oil, and pancakes dipped in honey for their meal, with the promise of dessert later once the meal had settled. He didn't know that he'd ever had anything half as delicious in his life, and although he didn't go overboard he did eat until he was content for the first time in a long, long time.