Shortage (Best Laid Plans Book 2)

by Nathan Jones

Matt nodded. “The horses are the real tragedy. Not just because they're majestic, faithful, hardworking creatures but because now in a world without fuel we're back to horsepower, and we had to eat ours just to live. But either way we're limping along, barely surviving, and we need all the help we can get.”

  The cousins exchanged a look and Trev cleared his throat. “So we see. No offense, Matt, but you look like you're almost too weak to stand. We've got some boiled wheat and strips of rabbit for you and your friends down below.”

  “They didn't come all this way for a meal,” Lewis stated, looking a bit annoyed. “What help did you think we could give, Matt?”

  Matt sighed. He'd sort of been hoping to stretch the reunion out a bit longer. “Well it's like this. I know you, Lewis, and you've got caches on top of caches on top of caches. You had a lot of food in your underground shelter in Aspen Hill, and when you found out about FETF you dragged some of it away to put in a new hiding place so it wouldn't all be stolen.”

  Lewis stiffened and turned to glare at Trev. “You told him?”

  “I swear I didn't!” Trev replied, waving his hands frantically.

  “He didn't,” Matt hurriedly cut in before Lewis could really start to rage. “I just saw Trev looking all dirty and sweaty and even more exhausted than when I'd left him, earlier that day when we got back from our trip to get April's family. And then even though you guys had just lost everything he gave my family all the food from the cache up by his car. I figured you guys had started caching stuff the moment you heard about FETF and managed to squirrel a lot of your supplies away before Ferris got to you.”

  “Good to know our friends are thinking that much about our private business,” Lewis grumbled.

  Matt did his best to squash his annoyance, as well as the guilt that came along with it. “We spent this winter starving . . . food was the number one thing on our minds.” He waved at their waistlines, even though they were all bundled up. “On the other hand you seem to have weathered the winter well by the looks of it, meaning you managed to haul some supplies up here. But we were sort of wondering if you didn't manage to cache more food than you two could carry up into the mountains, so maybe there's a stash still down there that could save lives.”

  “We could be planning to go down and get it ourselves,” Lewis said flatly. “Our food. Our lives.” He paused. “Assuming we had any extra.”

  “You do though, right?” Matt demanded. “We've got children down there, women, men who can't lift a shovel to plant a field or a gun to defend the town. Whatever you have could mean the difference between life and death for dozens, maybe hundreds of people.”

  Lewis waved at the mountains around them. “See where we are? It's a bit hard to be sympathetic when almost everything we owned was stolen from us, to the point where we decided we'd rather spend the winter freezing in ten foot drifts than stay in Aspen Hill.”

  Matt sighed. He hadn't expected this to be easy, and he'd had a feeling the cousins would feel this way. “We know you guys got the short end of the stick, but you can't really blame the town for that. Ferris is the one who took all your stuff.”

  “You went along with it,” Lewis shot back.

  Matt took personal offense to that, until he realized his friend meant the town in general. Still . . . “He took our weapons!”

  “You went along with that, too. Actually most of you willingly gave them up for some food and the threat of being put on a naughty boy list. Besides, Ferris didn't loot our shelter all by himself.

  “Nobody in my family helped with that,” Matt protested, although it irked him that he was being put on trial. He supposed he should've expected it while representing the town. “Plenty of other families didn't help either, like the Watsons and Tillmans and a dozen others I could name. Besides, Anderson's the one who organized that and he's not in charge anymore.”

  Trev shook his head, looking more tired than anything. “We were watching the people with Anderson empty the place out, you know. They weren't really too quiet about celebrating as they robbed their neighbors blind.”

  Matt fidgeted helplessly. “Come on, that's not quite fair. Nobody felt good about what happened to you. But at the same time it was a lot of food, and if Ferris was confiscating it anyway that meant the town was in that much better a position to survive the winter. You can't really blame them for being happy about that.”

  “Why not?” Lewis demanded. “They got enough to feed the town and all the refugees for what, a single day? And how many of those people ended up dying anyway? I had enough in there to survive for about 4 years, and Trev had about a third of that of his own! Let's say we go back down there and give you what we cached because you said “pretty please”. If we work ourselves half to death and manage to scrape together more food storage will you come running to rob us blind the moment things look bad for the town again?”

  He was doing this all wrong. Matt rubbed at his eyebrows. “Look, I told you Catherine's in charge. She's got one major rule the town lives by now: a person's property is their own. No one, not even the government, has the right to take anything from anyone. We've exiled people, sent them out into the cold in the heart of winter, for theft.

  “As for saying “pretty please” or expecting you to just give away anything you have, you should know me and Catherine better than that. I'm here to buy the food on behalf of the town. I probably should've mentioned that in the first place.”

  Trev gave him a doubtful look. “Buy with what? Nothing's more valuable than food these days.”

  Matt waved at them again. “You look like you guys can feed yourselves if need be. There's other things you can't get for yourselves that the town can offer you. Ammunition for one.”

  Lewis's patience had been thin enough as it was, but at this it seemed to snap. “Does everyone in town think we're an endless wellspring of food? As soon as there's any trouble it's off to Halsson and Smith for help, and we always get the short end of the stick. Do you realize how cheap wheat was, even after the Middle East Crisis? You could've each spent a couple hundred bucks and everyone in town would still be alive and still with a bit to spare. But no, you always look to us to bail y-”

  Trev cut in. “Look, this arguing isn't going to get us anywhere. You've made your request, Matt, and we've shared our objections. Why don't you head inside and get some food. We'll take some more food down to your friends and show them a good camping spot, and that'll give us a chance to talk it over.”

  Matt wanted to press the issue, but he knew his friend was right. He hadn't done the best job representing the town's interests or arguing their case, but for now better to let them think things through. They were both decent people, and if they thought they could manage without the food he had a feeling they'd sell it.

  So he allowed himself to be led up to their hideout, which looked much different from when he'd last seen it. Although it was still tiny and didn't seem adequate for two people cooped up there month after month. He'd thought the shelter felt crowded! It smelled a bit rank inside which was no surprise, but was surprisingly clean and, more importantly, blessedly warm.

  Matt settled down in a chair with a grateful groan as Lewis dished him up a plate of food. When Trev had mentioned boiled wheat he hadn't expected much, but from the smell of it that boiling had included a nice blend of savory spices, and the rabbit strips were tender and juicy. He wolfed it down as Lewis gathered up the rest to take down to Jane and Tom, while Trev disappeared for a while and came back with some sort of stick frame loaded with firewood strapped to his back.

  He was nearly finished by the time his friends were ready to head down, but they insisted he stay there and rest while they went. Remembering that half their reason for going was so they could talk things over, Matt nodded and gave them his companions' names along with brief descriptions. Then he settled back in his chair and put his hands over the fire as the door shut behind him, leaving him with just the dim light of the stove. It wasn't so bad, though.


  What would it be like to live here with Sam, hunting and trapping food and not having to worry about patrols or helping an endless stream of sick people or anything else? Aside from the smell he was surprisingly tempted by the idea.

  * * * * *

  “Were you really surprised?” Trev asked as he followed his cousin towards the cliffs.

  Lewis glared back at him for a second before returning his eyes to the trail. “Of course not, but that doesn't mean I'm not ticked. We were planning on going back to Aspen Hill once things warmed up a little!”

  “We still can.”

  “Think, Trev! Now that they've come sniffing after our food we've got the choice of saying yes and being the town heroes as we return to starve with them, or saying no and receiving a frosty welcome even though we haven't done anything wrong.”

  Trev frowned. “I wouldn't exactly put it like that. They're starving down there. I mean you saw how ragged Matt looked, and he had my cache to see him through the winter. Even if the townspeople know it's not exactly fair you can't blame people for resenting us a little when they had to watch loved ones starve to death and barely avoided that fate themselves, while come spring we head back into town all hale and hearty.”

  “Why can't I blame them? Unfair seems to be all we see when we deal with people these days. We give and give and give and they take and take and take and somehow we're always the bad guys! And Matt! I guess he got the old saying “a friend in need is a friend indeed” completely backwards.” Lewis scooped up a handful of snow and flung it at a nearby tree, which probably didn't provide much of an outlet for his anger since the powder immediately broke up into a cloud that only went a few feet.

  “So we tell him no?” Trev asked. He understood his cousin's feelings, and he certainly felt them, but his own desire to refuse was more about pragmatism than anger.

  “No, we tell him yes.”

  Trev blinked. “Run that by me again.”

  “I forgot to ask Matt about our shelter, but it's safe to assume people are living there. And if they're living there they're definitely using our woodpile. That ups the chances of them finding the cache underneath. Not to mention if everyone assumes we have more food they're probably poking around the shelter looking for it, and beneath the woodpile isn't that great a hiding place. For all we know it might already be gone, and Matt's here asking permission rather than forgiveness.”

  “Matt's not a liar,” Trev argued.

  “I know, but he might bend the truth on behalf of the town if things are really that desperate.” Lewis shrugged. “Besides, even if the cache is still there that just gets us back around to being the bad guys if we keep our own food for ourselves. Matt had a point that we can probably fend for ourselves if we really need to, and it would be nice to have the town grateful to us and owing us for the food they purchased. Besides, it's almost planting season.”

  Trev supposed his cousin had a point, but although he wasn't as angry as Lewis he also didn't feel as willing to roll over. “It's still tempting to tell them to push off.”

  “Short term, maybe.” Lewis shook his head. “One of our first talks when you made it down here from Utah Valley was about helping the community survive and thrive, not just to help ourselves but so that there'd be something worth surviving for. I still feel that way.” He smiled a bit ruefully. “I may have needed to vent some steam but that doesn't mean I'm not willing to come around.”

  In spite of the reasonable words Trev kept an obstinate silence going for almost a minute. “Yeah, me too,” he finally admitted with a sigh. “And I do like our neighbors down there. They don't have to be such jerks about everything, though.”

  His cousin chuckled. “They're fighting tooth and nail to survive. They'll be just as big jerks as they need to be.” He clapped Trev on the shoulder. “Relax, I'm exaggerating the situation a bit. They might be resentful because we started out better off than them, but once we're all ground into the dirt and depending on each other to survive they'll come around. Even in these desperate circumstances they are still capable of gratitude.”

  I hope so, Trev thought as he followed his cousin down the gap, but he'd been enough of a downer for the day. “It's good to see Matt though, isn't it?”

  “Even if he came like a beggar,” Lewis grumbled. Maybe he wasn't quite done venting yet.

  They reached the river and crossed it cautiously over the familiar but always treacherous stones, waving to the two people waiting for them on the other side. Trev thought he recognized Tom as one of the refugees who'd been heading up to inspect the gunshots last fall, but he definitely recognized Jane. If her copper-bright hair hadn't been enough there was the confident way she stood with her hand on her pistol, same as when she'd prepared to draw it when she'd seen him gathering up the bandits' guns last Halloween.

  She was also cute. He hadn't really seen her close enough last time to catch that detail. And she was tall, probably only a few inches shorter than him. And while she was skinny she didn't look quite as starved as Tom, or as Matt had for that matter.

  She was also looking at them suspiciously. “Where's Matt?” she demanded.

  Lewis answered calmly as he hopped the last few stones. “Up at our place eating a meal,” he lifted the pot he held. “I brought your share down for you. You don't mind camping in a cave, right? We've got a good secluded overhang beneath the cliffs on the other side of the river that should shelter you from the cold and weather at least a bit, and we've got firewood.”

  Jane shrugged and took her hand away from her pistol. “That's fine. Matt told us you were paranoid.”

  Trev hopped onto the far shore in time to see his cousin smile slightly. “Who isn't these days?” He held out his hand. “I'm Lewis. This is my cousin Trevor.”

  “Trev,” Trev corrected, holding out his hand to shake after his cousin. She had a firm grip, but she seemed in a hurry to let go of both their hands.

  Tom stepped forward to introduce himself and shake hands as well, after which Jane gave a quick glance at each of their faces and hesitantly spoke up. “On behalf of my group I wanted to thank you for saving us last winter.” She sounded a bit stiff and awkward, but then again how exactly do you casually thank a complete stranger for something like that?

  Trev glanced over at Lewis, wondering if his cousin was going to deny their involvement in the matter out of caution. But Lewis just nodded slightly. “You're welcome.”

  For some reason the reply seemed to irk the redheaded woman, and she scowled slightly. “Well don't look too proud of yourselves, it was only our lives!” she snapped.

  She was chastising them about a poor response? Trev felt himself starting to get annoyed as well, and he certainly felt like he had more justification. “Not just yours. You know my cousin got shot in the leg trying to help you? I had to drag him back to our hideout and remove the buckshot myself. You said “thanks” but you don't sound very grateful.”

  Jane flushed until her face nearly matched her hair, looking too abashed to respond. Instead it was Tom who replied. “It meant more to her than you realize. Her dad was killed by those bandits a few days before you ran into them. You not only protected us but also avenged his death.”

  Trev was going to argue that she still didn't sound very grateful, but Lewis calmly cut him off. “We didn't do it for gratitude, although we're happy to know you made it out of the mountains safely.” He addressed the words to both of them but his eyes were on Jane. “Did your dad have a gun?”

  She stiffened, starting to look a bit outraged. “A .30-30 with a scope.”

  “The bandits had it. We'll make sure it gets back to you.” His cousin looked at her expression and sighed. “I don't know what's going on here, but you're grateful and we were happy to help. Let's keep this friendly, okay?”

  “It is friendly,” she insisted, sounding frustrated. “I just . . . I'm not good at this sort of thing.”

  “Fair enough.” Lewis hefted the pot again. “Probably too late to eat this
warm, but you'll probably want to get to it before it freezes. Should we go get you set up in your camp?”

  A half hour later they left the two with their tents set up and a small fire crackling at the mouth of the long, deep overhang beneath the cliffs. Dense trees and underbrush covered the opening just beyond the fire, which would keep out most of the wind. Matt's companions had elected to heat the food over the small blaze, probably a wise choice, so they left them with the pot as they picked their way through the dense undergrowth along the cliffs to the gap.

  “Should we cover our tracks?” Trev asked, looking over his shoulder at their deep prints in the snow.

  Lewis shrugged. “We're not going to be here tomorrow, and those two don't seem like the sort to share secrets. Anyway if we do decide to head back up here at a later date and the location of our hideout gets out, I hope anyone who comes for it is ready to brave a long trip through an extreme environment and two armed men just to get at whatever we might have in our little shoebox home.”

  “I suppose.” Trev climbed the gap after his cousin and followed him up the gentle slope.

  When they entered their hideout they found Matt sprawled on Trev's cot sleeping, but he jolted awake as soon as he heard the door opening and sat up. “Well?” he asked as Trev and Lewis sank into the chairs facing him.

  “We'll sell the food and accept IOUs for it,” Lewis said. “But when we collect on the IOUs we get to decide whether to value the food at what it's worth now or what it's worth when we call in our debt.”

  Their friend grinned. “That's fair enough.”

  Lewis held up a stern finger to silence him. “The town will also, to the best of their ability, return all non-consumables Ferris stole from us. I'll draw up a list. And we'll be moving back into our shelter with the assurance that it'll be protected the same as the rest of the town. Finally, we trust you and Mayor Tillman, but it would still be nice to hear some assurances directly from her that none of our stuff is going to be “confiscated” in the future and that we won't be kicked out of our home again.”