Nuclear Winter (Book 1): First Winter

by Nathan Jones

  The family had started west months ago at the military's promise of safety in the Rocky Mountains, but had been caught behind blockhead lines when the enemy did their swift push to cover the remaining distance and begin their assault. With no other choice the family had retreated to the middle of nowhere, far from any roads. Since they couldn't know how long the blockheads would be there, or even if they'd ever leave, they'd begun settling in and preparing to stay for the long haul.

  Then during a hunting trip the father had seen a US military convoy driving past. He'd taken the risk of flagging it down, desperate for news, and had learned that the Gold Bloc had retreated and the way to safety in the Utah Rockies was now clear. Rejoicing, the family had once again packed up and continued west.

  Which was all to say that they'd had a bicycle and trailer to haul a good chunk of their supplies. Unfortunately the bike's front tire had sprung a serious leak, and with no way to repair it they'd simply kept going on the rim, trying to get as far as they could. That pretty quickly destroyed the wheel, and they'd discovered that the trailer's hitch was so short and low to the ground that trying to pull it by hand was incredibly unwieldy. They were better off just packing up the supplies and abandoning it.

  The family had been all too happy to let Lewis have the trailer, if he wanted to go get it. Especially after being charitably given a modest meal to help see them on their way to the nearest refugee camp, which they were relieved to hear was only several miles west of town. They gave him directions on how to find it and how far away it was, which turned out to be less than a day's ride there and back on a bicycle.

  Lewis and Jane had immediately hopped on their bikes and made for it, dreading that someone else would grab such a useful item before they could get there.

  In spite of their haste they traveled cautiously, aware that this had been blockhead territory less than a week ago. There were multiple abandoned campsites, some of them big enough to hold thousands of men, and every permanent structure they passed had been burned to the ground.

  But there was an odd discrepancy between the burned buildings and the abandoned camps. In spite of the enemy's determination to torch anything of value when they left, Lewis couldn't help but notice that just like Davis and his soldiers, the blockheads had been in a hurry to leave and only had limited space in their vehicles. Which meant they'd left stuff behind without destroying it. Mostly junk, but some of the refuse was potentially useful: scraps of canvas or tent cloth, discarded ropes and cables, and a few other things like that.

  Taking some time to scavenge the camps once they had the trailer was something to consider. In fact, it might be worth it to have the town send an expedition out, people with wagons who could really haul away enough stuff to be worthwhile.

  Matt was still considering the idea, hence Lewis and Jane inviting Trev along on this current trip to the hideout to grab the stove while they waited.

  As for the trailer, it had been just where the family left it, apparently untouched. The couple had brought it home filled with cloth and rope and a few other useful things from camps they'd passed, then immediately began planning what other use they could get out of it.

  It was already proving a blessing on this trip, since with it they'd been able to travel the distance between the town and the hideout quickly on bicycles, and still had a means to haul the elk home. What would've otherwise taken days on foot pulling a wagon could be done before nightfall.

  Trev hopped on his bike and followed Lewis and Jane south along the road, to the closest point to where the dressed elk waited wrapped in a tarp. It wasn't very far, which wasn't the problem: the problem was that it was at the bottom of the slope, so to get it up to the bikes they'd have to haul it up steep, rough terrain using brute force.

  And scrawny or not, that carcass was heavy.

  His cousin and Jane stood up on the road pulling on ropes, while on the hillside Trev did his best to push from below and guide the tarp-wrapped bundle over or around obstacles. It didn't take long for him to have a new appreciation for the suffering of Sisyphus, although thankfully the elk never rolled down the hill. Although it was less than a hundred yards the task took forever, and they were all panting like bellows by the end of it.

  “Think we burned more calories than we've got here?” Trev quipped as they loaded the bundle onto the trailer.

  “Sure feels like it,” Lewis replied with a final grunt as he shoved his end into place. “But with your fish I think we still come out ahead.”

  “Oh good. I was starting to feel like I wasted my time, while you two got to enjoy yourselves and ended up bagging some big game.”

  His cousin grinned wide and shrugged. “Hey, if you ever want to bring Deb up here you're . . .” he trailed off at Trev's expression, and his smile faded. “Sorry, that was really tasteless.”

  “Even I wouldn't have said that,” Jane agreed.

  Lewis shifted uncomfortably. “I know she went through some terrible stuff. I just figured with how much time you spend together that, you know, something was happening there.”

  Trev shook off the awkward change of direction the conversation had taken. “Not really. Our relationship isn't like that.”

  At least he thought it wasn't; Deb was still recovering after what she'd suffered at the hands of the blockheads, and it was hard to know what she felt about things. The fact that she'd basically become a second shadow, following Trev around as he carried out his duties protecting the town, suggested she might be interested in him too. Or at least she found some comfort in being around him. But he was erring way on the side of caution to avoid causing her any distress.

  The brown-haired woman seemed fine with that, neither of them in a hurry to rush things.

  Trev did feel a bit guilty about leaving her behind today, but he wasn't about to put Lewis on the spot about bringing someone else along to a location his cousin was trying to keep secret. There was also the fact that Deb was at his side from sunup to sundown most days. While he welcomed her company and enjoyed being around her, a bit of a break was welcome.

  Lewis and Jane seemed happy to let the discussion end on that note, and they all mounted their bikes in silence to start back down the road.

  Which turned out to be a good thing, because that silence continued as they left the bikes behind and started down the hillside towards the hideout; otherwise they might've missed the sound of men's voices below.

  Trev froze, hand instinctively going to the MP-443 Grach holstered at his hip. The 9mm was still a bit unfamiliar after trading away his 1911, as was his new AK-47, but all the volunteers had switched to them. Not because they favored the weapons they'd scavenged from hundreds of blockheads they'd beaten on the slope south of Highway 31, but because they'd run out of ammo for their own.

  He'd done enough practicing with the pistol to be confident his of his aim, but he wished he hadn't left the AK with his bike. It was less than fifty yards behind him, but Lewis and Jane had already unslung their .308s and didn't look in the mood to waste time turning back. There didn't seem to be much option but to follow them and hope a pistol was enough.

  They continued cautiously down the slope, Lewis altering their path to keep them behind cover but with a clear view of the hideout, where the voices were coming from, once it came in sight. They didn't have to go far before they were able to see the intruders, four men who appeared unarmed aside from a hunting knife at one's belt.

  The looters had obviously come for the stove. They'd already removed the stovepipe and were in the process of hauling the small cast iron bulk out the narrow door, cursing at the weight and awkward grips. Not far from the hideout sat a crude sled, nothing more than a square of sheet metal with holes drilled into two corners for a loop of rope.

  Lewis slung his rifle again, taking a moment to check that his 1911 in its shoulder holster was still easily accessible, then continued down the slope. Although he didn't abandon stealth completely he moved more quickly. “Check the surrounding area
while I talk to them, in case there are more,” he told them tersely. Trev and Jane both nodded without responding.

  Near the bottom of the slope, a good twenty yards from where the men still struggled, Lewis paused and raised his voice. “Gentlemen!”

  The four intruders dropped the stove in shock and whirled towards them, one man uttering a foul oath and grabbing his knee where the lip had banged it. Trev spared them just a moment to make sure none were producing any hidden weapons, then joined Jane in inspecting the trees and meadow around them for any potential threats.

  His cousin continued in a mild tone. “That stove belongs to us.”

  One of the four got over his surprise faster than the others, and even laughed. “Sorry, buddy. First rule of looting is first come, first serve.”

  Trev glanced at Lewis in time to see his cousin's eyes tighten slightly, although his tone remained mild. “No, it's literally our property. As is the land you're standing on.”

  It was a bit surprising these men weren't more worried about facing three armed people. Desperation, or were there more of them out there? Trev took a few steps to a better vantage point and searched the trees even harder.

  The spokesman replied doubtfully. “Can you show us the title to this property? A bill of sale for this stove?”

  Trev snorted in disbelief. Nobody carried those sorts of documents around with them, especially not after the world ended. He didn't know what the guy was trying to prove. Still, if anyone could be expected to think ten steps ahead to produce what was needed on demand, it would be his cousin.

  But Lewis just shook his head, also looking slightly disbelieving. “No.”

  “Then possession is nine-tenths of the law.” The man dismissively turned back to the doorway. “My family needs this to survive the winter, and you lot don't seem the murdering type. Nice talking to you, but we've got to get back to work.”

  In spite of his feigned casualness the man jerked as much as his three companions at the sharp crack of Jane's rifle. To be honest Trev did a bit of jumping himself. The redheaded woman had aimed for a tree well away from the intruders, but she definitely got their attention.

  “I may not be the murdering type,” she said in the flat tone she often adopted for strangers, “but for thieves I'm willing to be the injuring type. That's our property and we're entitled to protect it.”

  One of the spokesman's companions said something to him, too quietly to be heard at this distance. The other two men were already backing away from the hideout, hands raised. Seeing it the spokesman's shoulders slumped, defeated, and he joined the others a safe distance away. “We'll tell the military about this.”

  Lewis had looked slightly surprised by the shot as well, but now he showed no sign of it. “Please do. We have hundreds of people willing to support our claim.”

  Cursing and grumbling among themselves, the intruders picked up their sled and carried it north, towards where the meadow intersected the road that led down to the bridge across Huntington Creek. Trev felt his shoulders loosening now that he was sure things had gone well for them.

  “Lucky timing,” he said, joining Lewis as his cousin made his way over to the stove.

  Lewis nodded. “They're probably the ones who looted the place to begin with. I'm guessing they couldn't take the stove right then, so just like us they planned a trip to come back for it. That explains why they had the sled, and how fast they were about removing the stovepipes and hauling it out while we were distracted with the elk. The fact that we managed to get here before they could drag it off is incredibly lucky timing.”

  “If they'd come later we'd be gone with it and we wouldn't have had to scare them off,” Trev pointed out. “So the timing could've been slightly luckier.”

  His cousin shrugged and awkwardly climbed through the door around the stove, grabbing the far end and testing its weight. “Not as heavy as the elk . . . I think the two of us can get it. Those guys must've been weak from hunger to have so much trouble.”

  Jane, warily watching the intruders leave, turned towards them at that. “If you've got this I'm going to follow them. Just to make sure they really leave and stay gone.”

  Lewis hesitated, then nodded reluctantly. Splitting up wasn't ideal, but his cousin was obviously even less thrilled at the thought of intruders roaming around. “Be careful,” he told his wife.

  She nodded and started off, angling up the hillside where she could trail the four men out of their view, and also stay between them and the bikes on the logging road above. They certainly didn't want those and their precious trailer stolen, either.

  Trev grabbed his end of the stove, joining Lewis in hauling it out the door and walking it towards the slope. His cousin was right that it was lighter, although taking it up the mountainside was still going to be a pain.

  Before they'd gone too far Lewis set his end down and moved back to the door, closing it. For a moment he agonized over the broken hasp, then he chuckled wryly and entered the padlock's combination, pulling it free and dropping it into a pocket to take with him. “Oh well. It's not like they can loot the place again.”

  “They could burn it down,” Trev pointed out.

  His cousin grimaced. “I wouldn't mind if they did, if it meant the shelter had been spared instead.”

  That wiped the smile off Trev's face. The blockheads had burned down every structure they could when they fled, which included the underground shed Lewis had buried and outfitted for a disaster scenario.

  Trev wouldn't have expected the shelter to burn very well, but the blockheads must've been motivated. The heat of the fire had weakened the structure enough that the weight of the three feet of dirt it was buried beneath had collapsed it. What was left was a solid mass of twisted, melted metal and fused and blackened dirt, along with the remains of whatever debris they'd burned inside to destroy it.

  Completely unsalvageable. It had taken him and his cousin hours to even dig through the mess enough to realize how complete the damage was.

  Thoughts of the shelter brought to mind unpleasant reminders of other things they'd lost since the Gulf burned, but luckily hauling a large hunk of cast iron provided a good distraction; pretty soon they were working too hard hauling the weight for any more talking. They took it one careful step at a time, resting as needed, as the minutes ticked away.

  Eventually Jane returned to report that the would-be looters had crossed the bridge and were well on their way north traveling on the highway. There wasn't much she could do to help with the stove, since they weren't about to tie ropes to it and drag it up the slope like they had the elk, and she was barely strong enough to lift one end. So she kept pace with them and watched the mountain around them for danger.

  The line of iron gray clouds Trev had been eyeing for the last few hours finally rushed to cover the entire sky from horizon to horizon, bringing with them a misting rain. With his exertion the light cooling touch drifting over his face felt good at first, but then the rainfall increased to just past the point of being unpleasant.

  Trev was familiar with these cold mountain drizzles, although they usually happened later in the year. Still, he could ignore the discomfort until they got this job done. And if it kept up like this he supposed they could even ride home in it.

  Then he glanced across the valley to the mountain slope across the way. Through the drizzle it was a veiled gray and green blur, but his eyes tracking up to the peak saw a dusting of white, there at the very tip.

  He froze lifting the back of the stove, staring. The motion didn't disturb the front, where Lewis was focused on setting his feet for his first steps after their break, and Jane's eyes were on the logging road above them. Neither noticed as Trev set his end down and got out his binoculars for a look.

  It was definitely snow.

  Trev knew the mountains at this elevation tended to be around fifteen degrees cooler than the valley during the day, with even more pronounced temperature extremes at night. Up on the peak it would be colder s
till. The snows always came to the mountains a month or more earlier than down below.

  Even so, even on a peak . . . snow, in August. They were a bit past what should be the hottest part of the year, but not by much.

  “Um, guys?” he said, pointing with his binoculars. “Should we be worried about that?”

  He wasn't using his “we're in danger and I need your immediate attention” tone, so the other two didn't immediately pick up on his worry. “You let go?” Lewis asked in annoyance as he dropped his end of the stove. “I almost fell over with this thing on top of me.”

  Jane finished examining the road above and turned, eyes following Trev's pointed binoculars. Expression tightening, she unclipped her own binoculars from her belt and raised them. She didn't say anything, just silently handed them to Lewis as he joined her.

  His cousin looked through them for a few seconds. “Huh.”

  “I'd say snow in August warrants a bit more of a response than that,” Trev said.

  Lewis shrugged. “It could be a fluke. The weather up here can be pretty random and show surprising extremes. I've seen hail coat the mountainsides during the summer months plenty of times. Usually just a short, cold squall, and then in less than an hour it's a nice day again.”

  Trev was pretty sure this wasn't hail. But he didn't want to say what they all had to be thinking.

  Everyone was expecting nuclear winter to hit early and hard. But if it was already bearing down on them they were in real trouble.

  Jane lowered her binoculars. “It'll still be months before we see weather like this down in the new Aspen Hill valley, right?”

  “Right.” Lewis smiled tightly. “No need to read more into a single event than it deserves.” He motioned to Trev. “Come on, let's get going.”

  Maybe his cousin was trying to convince himself as much as them, but the silence was different after that. More tense, as they all contemplated with dread the ordeal of the long, bitter winter looming in front of them.