by Nathan Jones
“Sure.” Raul spent the next half hour or so giving a rundown on the condition the ruined town and the surrounding area was in. The Aspen Hill Canyon stream was still flowing just fine, and while the spigot on the town spring had been busted the spring itself was still flowing strong. That was all the water a prospective settlement needed, just like it had kept the residents of Aspen Hill going before they'd been forced to abandon their homes.
It wouldn't be the easiest place to rebuild, though. The timber was sparse down there, unless you were a fan of scrub oak, which meant they'd either have to get creative in their construction or haul it down from the mountains. Not the easiest task without fuel for vehicles, especially when the road up Aspen Hill Canyon was still blocked by tons of rock from the cliff they'd dropped on it, to prevent the blockheads from using it as a route into the mountains. If old and new Aspen Hill really did want to stay connected they'd probably have to work together to clear and repair it at some point, but that was a project for the future.
Other than the water, some fruit trees and berry bushes that had survived the fires, and a bunch of burned timber and melted, heat-warped metal, there wasn't much down there. But hey, Raul couldn't fault folks who wanted to hold onto their land.
After the discussion wound down Robert shook his hand, reminded him he was welcome to join them if he wanted, and asked him to keep the group's plans to move quiet for now.
That was an unusual request, considering the carpenter wanted things to stay friendly between the two towns. Or one town in two places. “Is there a good reason for the secrecy?” Raul asked, trying not to sound suspicious.
“Yes, actually.” Robert shrugged. “We're still just talking about it, and it might turn out we decide not to go after all. If so we don't want to spread it around that we're leaving and run into any hard feelings the news might cause, only to have things be less than friendly when we stick around.”
Well, that was fair enough. “I'll keep it to myself until you guys make up your minds, one way or another. Whatever you decide I hope it works out for you.”
Raul saw his visitor to the door and closed it behind him, then tossed a log on the fire and started preparing a quick meal before heading to bed.
He'd head out again tomorrow. It couldn't hurt to go over the ruins again, specifically with the thought of people settling the area in mind. He might notice something that could help Robert's group out, or keep them from wasting too much time planning if he discovered an issue that would make resettlement impossible.
It was something to do, at least.
* * * * *
Trev could only hope his efforts throughout late February and early March to contact the people of Aspen Hill and let them know they weren't in this alone had helped.
It certainly looked as if they might've. Over the next few weeks the number of suicides dropped off dramatically, then trickled down to nothing. Trev wasn't sure if that was because they'd managed to reach those who were considering ending it all, or if it was just that all those who'd already decided to do so had. Either way, it was a relief.
While it had been a sad task, if nothing else it had taken his mind off Deb's miscarriage. His wife seemed to feel the same, because even before Dr. Maggy declared her fit for the task she'd insisted on going back out on sentry duty.
“It's not like sitting around looking at snowy mountains is stressful or physically demanding,” she dryly told him when he tried to object. “And the temperatures are more comfortable now. With the improvements to the sentry posts there's no chance I'll get chilled, but if you really insist on it I can take shifts during the day when it's warmer.” She stepped closer, resting a hand on his chest. “I'll admit, it's been nice having both our sleeping schedules normal for a change so we don't have to sleep alone. I wouldn't mind keeping it that way.”
It turned out she really meant that . . . after her first shift back on sentry duty she practically tackled him onto the bed for their first lovemaking since before the miscarriage, and afterwards peacefully drifted off to sleep in his arms.
That seemed to ease a lot of her tension, and Trev had to admit it did the same for him. He could feel more hopeful that they were taking steps towards getting over their grief and moving forward, and that things were still good between them. And Deb's spirits continued to improve now that she was back at work protecting the town.
March passed in a flurry of activity, as people got out more and more to get outside work done even if conditions weren't ideal, simply because they couldn't stand being cooped up anymore. Lewis even invited Trev and Jim to bring their family's sled and come along with him on a major expedition.
It turned out Trent Lincoln had decided to pursue his business of scavenging glass from vehicles after all, and Lewis had arranged for himself, his cousins, and Jane to join their friend on a run.
There was a very good reason Lewis was interested in getting more glass: he wanted to build a greenhouse. It seemed like a pretty obvious solution to the shorter growing season they could expect during nuclear winter, if they were willing to put in the effort. Which his cousin was, as long as he could count on help from Trev and the rest of the shelter group.
To get the most out of the trip they talked Alvin Harding, Rick Watson, Raul Gutierrez, and Robert Paulson into going to help dismantle the cars and haul the glass. Most of those they made the offer to were quick to accept, likely going as stir crazy as Trev and his family were, confined to their cabins for months on end.
Although Matt had reluctantly turned them down, not because he didn't want to go but because he didn't feel like he could justify being gone for even one day, let alone the two or three the trip might end up taking.
Before leaving they had a discussion about where to go looking for vehicles, and everyone agreed that even after being burned to the ground Aspen Hill and the surrounding area was still the best nearby spot. Having explored around there extensively, and even searched through some of the cars in his scavenging, Gutierrez assured them that there were quite a few vehicles worth looking at.
Not as many as there should've been, since in their destructiveness the blockheads had trashed many of the cars, especially closer to the center of town where they were stationed. But there were enough intact to make the trip worthwhile.
So for the first time since his town was destroyed Trev walked through it.
Snow had hidden a lot of the damage, burying collapsed buildings and charred fragments of wood. But it couldn't hide everything, and what he saw looked like a war zone. Almost everything had been totally destroyed, apparently for no other reason than a love of destruction. Those who'd lived here were quiet as they passed the ruins of their houses or those of their friends and loved ones, the Smiths and Halssons and Larsons and Watsons and Thorntons and Tillmans and Raymonds and many others.
Rick even asked if they could pause for a moment, so he could see if any of his family's mementos that had been too large to bring with them when they fled had survived. From the looks of it he didn't do much searching, though, just stood in the midst of the cinders of the house he'd grown up in while staring at nothing.
Trev could empathize. When he passed his own house, long since sold to another family after his family moved to Michigan, and now equally ruined, he tried not to look at it too closely and dredge up the pain of losing that part of his childhood.
They ended up passing through town and beginning their work on the eastern outskirts, where most of the intact cars could be found. While everyone got to work on the first one with the tools they'd brought, Lewis popped the hood and checked out the engine. Trev guessed he wanted to salvage more useful parts like the ones he'd used to make the exercise bike dynamo.
A year and a half of neglect out in the elements hadn't done the vehicle's innards any good, and Trev had a feeling that anything his cousin did find would have to be cleaned and maintained, if it worked at all. But Lewis must've been satisfied with something he found, because he retrieved some o
f his tools and got to work removing it. Trev was no car expert but he thought it might be an alternator.
For the rest of the day they scavenged windows, and that night built a fire and made camp on the lee side of the single remaining brick wall of the ruined town hall. It was the closest thing to shelter they could find. Trev could still see gouges carved into the bricks from the Browning .50 cal the raiders had used to attack the road block down the street.
Trev hadn't been there, but had heard Matt describe how he'd been at the end of that line of bullet holes, and had nearly died before he could get behind cover. He supposed that was one memory of the town nobody would mind forgetting.
The next afternoon they finished removing as many windows and windshields as they could carry, as well as any engine and electrical parts Lewis wanted, and began dragging their loaded sleds back home. It was slow going, especially where the road had been destroyed below the demolished cliff in Aspen Hill Canyon. By the time they reached that barrier the sun had set to the west, swiftly plunging the canyon into darkness, so they made camp at the base of the loose slope of shattered rocks.
The going was just as slow the next day, but Lewis, Jane, and Gutierrez were all fairly confident they'd make it back to town without needing to set up camp again. And sure enough around sunset they came in sight of the eastern ridge overlooking the new Aspen Hill valley.
Trev was surprised to see the dark smudges of two people framed by the setting sun, pushing through the white snow towards them following the tracks they'd left two days ago. It turned out to be Matt and Deb hiking out to welcome them home, alerted by the sentries.
Deb broke into an awkward wade through the snow to reach him, grinning ear to ear, and Trev dropped the rope on his sled and hurried to meet her halfway, throwing his arms around her. The last few days was the first time since the wedding he'd been away from her for more than a few hours, and it surprised him how much he'd missed her. Add that to how uncomfortable camping in the cold was, and he was really looking forward to sleeping in his own bed tonight with his arms wrapped around the woman he loved.
Although sleep would have to wait. Lewis was so excited about the idea of starting the greenhouse that he insisted on tallying how many windows they had so they could immediately begin pacing out the dimensions of the building. Jim was equally enthusiastic, and Deb didn't seem to mind joining in, so together they all started planning construction.
First things first, trying to make the entire thing out of glass was unfeasible and ultimately unnecessary. Lewis had thought up a design for a small, mostly underground structure with a south facing slanted glass ceiling that should let light in for most of the day. It would only accommodate a modest garden, but it would extend the growing season for plants that needed it and provide fresh greens, fruits, and vegetables through some of the colder months.
As an added plus safety glass was great for ceilings, since it was less likely to break. And depending on how many glass runs they went on with Trent they'd be able to make more greenhouses just like this at a later time.
Eventually, Lewis explained, their friends and neighbors would be able to do the same for their own gardens, easing the town's worries about fresh foods. Also if Trent wanted to use some of the glass he scavenged for that purpose then the Lincolns could start an operation with their own greenhouses, while still selling enough glass to others to make a decent profit.
And the greatest thing about it was that they could get started before the snows melted and get their planting in earlier. The earlier the better, as far as Trev was concerned.
Chapter Nine
Green
Matt had hoped that on the first day of spring there'd be at least some sign that winter was loosening its hold.
Olivia was almost six months old now, and had never seen any world but deep snow and cold she had to stay bundled up against. His daughter had learned to roll over close to the stove, where her arms and legs didn't have to be thickly swathed in cloth and her movements weren't restricted. And judging by how she was pushing herself up on her arms she'd soon be crawling.
By the time she was walking it would probably be winter again. She wouldn't get to run and play outside until next year. Matt knew there were plenty of people who lived and raised children in cold climates who'd been through this, and children were incredibly good at adjusting to their environment. Still, it made him sad to think how much of Olivia's early years she'd be spending staring at the same drab walls, unable to go out and experience the wonders of discovering the world for the first time.
Rationally he knew things weren't nearly as depressing as he was seeing them at the moment. He was just so sick of this winter that never seemed to end, to snows up to his hips or higher when the new emerald green grass should be tickling his ankles.
The winter had been so bitter there was no hope of a spring where they woke up one day to find it mild enough that the snow visibly melted while they watched. Where people long used to below freezing temperatures threw off coats to let the sun touch their skin, even though it wasn't nearly warm enough yet for shirtsleeves.
March gave way to April, and Aspen Hill residents counted it a good day if, during the warmest part of the afternoon, they could go outside for any amount of time with just a coat and no hat and gloves. The temperature rose up above freezing a few times, but not for long enough to really get to work melting the snow, and not for enough days in a row for people to start celebrating.
Aaron and Paul stopped asking when spring would come, the painful question surprisingly heartbreaking in its absence. And even though Matt knew better, knew spring had to eventually come, it was easy to feel the dread that this cold would last right on through to the next winter without ever breaking. That below freezing temperatures would be around for years, long after all of them were dead from starvation or the cold.
He'd thought that the winter after the Gulf burned, on their own and struggling to survive with no supplies coming in, had been brutal. And it had been, as he was forced to bury friends one after another in the frozen earth. The town had lost hundreds of people.
It didn't seem fair that the town had been able to come into this one better off in the way of food, firewood, and arguably even insulated shelters, but cruel fate seemed determined to make it far worse to even the score.
Couldn't they ever catch a break? It wouldn't have to be much: even a single day of warmth, a sign that spring still existed in the world to give them all hope.
Sam, determined to make the best of things, insisted on taking the boys outside most afternoons to play in the snow, making snowmen and snow forts and having snowball fights. They always came in rosy-cheeked and cheerful, at least for a while, crowding around the stove and sharing their infectious excitement with Olivia. In spite of Matt's glum mood it always cheered him up to watch his daughter wiggle eagerly in his arms when they came in, and laugh when her cousins touched her cheeks with their cold hands.
Then, finally, one day in the middle of April the winds came from the south, and Matt walked outside one morning to find that it was already nearly above freezing. By noon the temperature had reached 40.
It didn't signal the immediate arrival of spring by any stretch of the imagination, since this was just a fluke of weather and it would probably get cold again before temperatures returned to stay this high. Still, as his grandpa had used to say this was a harbinger of spring, and after a winter that seemed to last forever a harbinger was good enough for Matt.
Only it wasn't a fluke, at least not entirely. The temperatures did dip down again from time to time, but overall they steadily rose through the 40s. Until April 26th, the one year anniversary of the greatest disaster in human history, the Retaliation, when the temperatures finally broke into the 50s in the afternoon.
Matt left that morning to plan a commemoration, wracking his mind to find some tasteful way to organize a public event that acknowledged the death of billions of people the world over. He walked to the field
north of town, going over potential lines for his speech and greeting the townspeople he passed.
There were more and more people out and about these days, and not just because they couldn't stand to be confined in their homes. They actually enjoyed the comparatively warm temperatures, and were eager to begin the outdoor work winter had kept them from. Neighbors flagged him down several times to chat, which was usually a welcome distraction. Today he did his best to politely disengage and kept going.
When he reached the field he saw a patch of brown in the snow, where it had melted enough to reveal the ground below. And in that patch of brown grass he saw shoots of green poking through.
For just a moment he stood stock still, staring. Such a simple thing, but it made his heart soar. He found himself bolting back home to get Sam and Olivia and the boys so he could show them the wondrous sight.
* * * * *
“You're sure?” Trev asked quietly.
Deb nodded. “I mean I haven't talked to Dr. Maggy yet, but I'm sure. I waited a bit longer before even daring to hope, let alone mention it and get your hopes up.”
His wife showed none of the giddiness she'd displayed the first time she announced she was expecting. She still looked excited, yes, and happy, but also more than a little scared and sad and even a bit sick.
Of course, she had just finished puking up breakfast. That tended to dampen even the happiest occasion. Not to mention spilling the beans, figuratively as well as literally, on her condition.
And how did he feel about the news? Terrified, honestly. Trev wanted to be excited, wanted to be happy, wanted to look forward to the thought of being a father. And then he remembered the pain of that awful night when they'd lost their child.
What if it happened again?
He let himself experience those feelings for just a moment, acknowledged them, and then tucked them away and let himself be happy. In life the good came with the bad, and this was a new chance for them to hope for what they desperately longed for. Trev was going to embrace it.