Nuclear Winter (Book 1): First Winter

by Nathan Jones

  Lewis had the handcart, and the town had other carts and wagons available. It might be worth asking around the area to see if anyone was willing to trade for hay. They might even be able to get it cheap. He'd have to talk to Chauncey about it.

  At the moment he was in the barn, calculating space in the floor and loft areas and deciding how much fodder they could store and how the livestock stalls should be arranged. He was glad they'd built for extra space, anticipating future prosperity, because short term it also made the job of fitting everything in easier.

  Assuming they had the fodder to fit in.

  That was one important plan they'd have to make as soon as the first snows fell. If they didn't have enough for all the animals to eat through the winter they'd want to butcher the surplus immediately, so they didn't eat any more fodder. That would leave more for the rest and allow for more in total to stay alive. They'd probably want to butcher a few animals anyway, those too old to reproduce and any redundant bucks and rams.

  That was a small number, which was great news for the herds going forward since it meant almost every animal was potentially productive. Now whether the townspeople could survive through the winter on the food they had, and might need to butcher more to stay alive, was another question entirely.

  Although none of the shelter group's animals would be harvested for meat if he could do anything to avoid it, that was for sure.

  “Lewis?”

  Startled out of his thoughts, Lewis turned to see Deb standing just inside the wide open barn doors. “Hi,” he said. “Looking for Trev?”

  For a moment she seemed almost angry, and maybe a little lost. “No.” She glanced around the empty space. “I, um, I'm trying to find ways to help out. Can I do anything here?”

  The answer to that was mostly no, but at the same time he couldn't refuse. If Aunt Clair and Uncle George had done their “intervention” with Trev, and Deb wasn't currently glued to his side, that probably meant his cousin had convinced her to make some sort of change. That was something to encourage. Hopefully.

  “Sure.” Lewis motioned to the small stack of crudely cut and baled fodder they'd already gathered. “I was just about to move those into the loft. Want to climb up there and I'll hand them up to you?”

  She nodded and started for the ladder. As she went Lewis grabbed the top bale and brought it over, starting up after her. But when he raised the burden overhead to hand to her she didn't take it.

  He looked up to see the brown-haired woman staring down at him, an odd expression on her face. “Everyone in your family got together and decided Trev's mom and dad needed to convince him to stay away from me,” she said.

  Lewis sighed and, with a quick heave, tossed the bale up beside her so he wouldn't have to keep holding it. Then he leaned against the ladder. “They just wanted to voice their concern to Trev,” he explained. She didn't answer. “So he already talked to you about it?”

  Deb shook her head, more miserable than angry. “Linda did, right after their parents pulled him in to have their talk. She told me everything.”

  Lewis shifted uncomfortably, wondering exactly what Linda had said. He was fond of his cousin, but he also knew what she was like. Had the girl said something that might hinder Trev's chances of helping Deb, and maybe even hurt her? If the poor woman thought the entire family was against her where exactly did she go from there?

  On the plus side, at least she was willing to approach him, so maybe it wasn't so bad. “We're worried for both of you,” he tried.

  “I get it.” Deb smiled a bit bitterly. “The alarm bells start ringing when you see someone you care about getting followed around by a damaged girl who's emotionally demanding and shuns physical intimacy.”

  Lewis winced. It was great for her that she was willing to approach him, but it was awkward to be put on the spot like this. “That's not how it is,” he said gently. “We all want things to work out for you. But you know things can't keep going like they are.”

  “I know.” She abruptly turned and grabbed the bale, hauling it farther back into the loft. “That's why I'm here right now instead of trailing after him like a lost puppy. When he finally hunts me down and tells me we should take a break for our own good, I'll go along and make it easy on him.”

  Lewis felt a moment of helpless frustration. He didn't want Deb felling like he thought she was baggage. He cared about and respected her. They all did. The problem was that Trev had gone overboard while trying to help her, in ways that weren't good for either of them.

  Still, one of the oldest bits of advice in existence was to not interfere in the romantic relationship of a loved one. Even if you were right, which wasn't always the case, and even if you gave good advice to the couple, it rarely helped and usually just ended up with both people mad at you.

  But whatever frustration he felt was at the situation, not at Trev or Deb. He just wanted to help them however he could. So he'd keep his mouth shut and let Deb vent if that was what she needed, or more preferably work comfortably beside her to show that being away from his cousin for a while might not be too bad after all.

  Together they moved most of the bales up into the loft. Deb didn't say anything after that, and either she was catching allergies from the crudely cut and baled meadow grass or she was crying, but Lewis gave her some space. He wasn't sure if it was a relief or not when Trev finally showed up.

  On the other hand his cousin looked seriously relieved to find Deb, and it was obvious he'd been looking for her. Lewis made a graceful exit from the barn to give them room to talk, hoping they could sort things through.

  * * * * *

  Since Lewis had given him a good excuse with finishing the work moving bales, Trev was more than happy to take it and postpone the inevitable for a few more minutes.

  He could immediately tell something was wrong with Deb, though. Had she listened in to his conversation with his parents, or heard some other way? If so what would she think of people talking about her like she was a problem behind her back?

  Finally, though, the last bale was arranged neatly in one corner of the large loft. Deb turned to look at him, and Trev had to remind himself not to brush a stray wisp of drying grass from her hair. Why did everything have to be so complicated when his feelings were so simple? “We need to talk.”

  She gave him a resigned smile. “About the fact that I'm super clingy?”

  So he'd guessed right and she already knew. He sighed. “I wanted a chance to talk things over with you without any jumping to conclusions.”

  The brown-haired woman's smile turned sad. “Too late, cat's out of the bag. I don't know if you knew this, but Linda's already seeing wedding bells in our future. She's a sweet girl, excited at the thought of having a sister. When she found out they were going to spring an intervention on you she let me know what was going on, and why everyone was worried for me.”

  “Oh.” Linda had been very friendly with Deb, which was pretty noticeable since his sister . . . wasn't always the easiest person to get along with. “What, um, do you think?”

  Deb looked away. “I think it couldn't hurt if I found other ways to be useful around town. Ways that let me connect with other people.” She shook her head, almost angrily. “And I should start letting you get a good night's sleep. You need it with all the work you do.”

  Trev was relieved that she was willing to take that step, but also a bit disappointed. He did enjoy having her around, and he didn't want that to completely end. “We don't have to cut off contact completely.”

  Deb gave him a relieved look. Had she been thinking the same thing? “I'm glad that-I mean . . .” She took a deep breath and continued in a rush. “If we do want some hope of a normal future, it's better if I step away for a while. I don't want to be a burden, constantly weighing on you and using you to shield me from my issues. It doesn't work and it's not fair to either of us. I want to be more like Jane, a real partner where we strengthen and can depend on each other. I want you to be able to lean o
n me sometimes so you don't have to be strong all the time.”

  Trev felt heat rising in his cheeks, and Deb blushed furiously as she blurted out the words. Even with all the time they'd spent together they'd both carefully danced around the romantic side of things. It was good to know he wasn't the only one who'd been thinking that way. “Maybe we can turn movie night into proper dates,” he said with a lopsided grin. “I can pick you up before dinner and have you home before midnight.”

  She laughed, although it sounded like an excuse to relieve some tension. “Thanks for being patient with me,” she said quietly. “But I have to warn you that my problems aren't going to go away overnight. Spending some time apart to correct unhealthy dependencies is a good start, but none of this is going to be easy for me. That's not really fair to you.”

  “You're talking like being around you has been nothing but negatives,” Trev said. “I like being with you. I want you to do what you need to in order to heal from your experiences, but never think you're just a burden.”

  Deb looked away, tears in her eyes. “That means more than you think,” she whispered. She abruptly leaned in to put a hand on his shoulder and kiss him on the cheek, then started for the ladder. “Let's give it a few weeks and go from there.”

  Trev stayed where he was, watching her go. A few weeks felt like a long, long time. Concern for her aside, he wasn't sure he could endure that. There was also the worry that stepping back would give her some perspective, and she might decide she was better off without him and make a clean break after all.

  Or it might give her a different kind of perspective, and when they got back together the relationship could grow more naturally. He could only hope. Whatever happened he could live with, as long as it helped her heal after what she'd been through.

  Chapter Ten

  Unwelcome Guests

  Matt wasn't sure whether or not the evening commemoration of the Gulf refineries attack, and all who'd died during it and since, had improved the mood in town or made it worse. On the one hand it gave those who'd suffered losses a chance to grieve. On the other it reminded the townspeople that everything was messed up.

  Just when they thought their troubles with the blockheads were over, and they could fully focus on their troubles with the upcoming nuclear winter, suddenly more men with guns roll around to cause problems they might not be able to handle. Sometimes life just decided to keep grinding you down beyond the point where you could take it.

  Whatever the mood, attendance at the ceremony looked to be nearly the entire town. Hundreds of people packed into the meadow, including those who usually didn't bother coming to town events. Only Trev's defenders on patrol and sentry duty weren't able to participate, although many came to pay their respects beforehand or intended to do so afterwards.

  That included Trev himself, who'd swapped shifts to go out patrolling. Matt wasn't sure what had brought that on, but from the general whispers around the shelter group he had a feeling his friend was having problems with Deb. Some sort of argument, maybe. Matt missed him being there, but he could understand the need to get away sometimes.

  The ceremony itself was fairly simple. Matt had staked out a spot where people could leave mementos of those they'd lost, with the intention that once times were better the town would put up a monument here engraved with all those names. He'd also roped off a modest sized plot in the meadow to be converted into a memorial park when times were better. The other town leaders had approved the idea, and were there along with almost everyone else in town laying down mementos.

  Matt gave a short speech, feeling awkward and inadequate to be addressing such a serious topic. From there he let the event progress in a more organic fashion as people filed respectfully past the monument location. Final goodbyes were offered, prayers said, and tears shed. People clung tightly to their loved ones through it all.

  Including Sam, who wouldn't let him take his arms from around her except to greet their friends and neighbors. She was quiet and subdued, dark eyes shiny with tears for her own loved ones lost in New York. Matt knew things hadn't been perfect with her family, but the grief was just as strong over missed opportunities. He knew she kept that grief buried deep and rarely mentioned her past or speculated on the fate of those she'd left behind back east, but it still weighed on her.

  He wished he could think of anything to do for her there, and felt a bit selfish being so glad his own immediate family was safe with him. There were others in his extended family whose fate was unknown and not looking good, and he grieved them, but he couldn't fully know what his wife was going through. He could only imagine, and that made him hold her all the closer.

  Whatever the ceremony did for morale, it definitely seemed to bolster everyone's determination to push forward. The next day marked one of the most productive Aspen Hill had seen. Considering how hard everyone had been working even at the worst times getting ready for the winter, that was something remarkable to see. For a time, at least, people seemed to have pushed aside the specter of Rogers and the trouble that loomed over the town. They were getting back to their lives, which was a relief to see.

  It wasn't to last, though. Three days later, five days after the major came for their surplus food, they finally found out how he intended to respond to being run out of town.

  * * * * *

  It started late in the afternoon, when Trev on far patrol tersely radioed in to report that he'd seen a large group of refugees approaching on foot.

  Matt felt a sinking in his gut at the news. This had been the most likely way Rogers would come at them, by simply sending the refugees he'd demanded the town take in. That would put them in the uncomfortable position of having to turn them back, with all the attendant guilt, and he'd be able to blast them in the court of public opinion.

  “Is it the 220 women and children Rogers wanted us to take?” he asked his friend, giving Sam and the rest of his family a reassuring look as he stepped into his boots, grabbed his M16, and headed out the door. The gun certainly wouldn't be used in this situation, but taking it was second nature to him now.

  “I wish,” Trev replied grimly, voice staticky over the radio from a distance. “We've got adult males, mostly between the ages of 20 and 35 as far as I can see. I'm still counting, but a rough estimate puts them at around a thousand.”

  Matt stumbled over nothing, heart suddenly pounding in his ears as a ball of pure panic and dread slammed into his gut. A thousand. That was more than the entire town's population. There was no way Rogers could've thought they'd even be able to take in so many, let alone would agree to it, and the chance of violence resulting from it was incredibly high. Was the man insane?

  Chauncey's voice joined in. “How far out?”

  “They don't seem to be in any hurry,” Trev replied. “I'd say we've got two hours before they reach town. Although I strongly advise against letting them get anywhere near us.”

  “I agree completely,” Matt said. He made for the town hall tent, as the central location in town and the spot where the most people tended to be found. “Listen up, everyone. We're going to gather every single person in town who can competently carry a gun, then we're going to meet these refugees on the road and turn them back politely but firmly. We leave in a half hour.”

  That sounded like a long time, but when it came to gathering and gearing up hundreds of people, not to mention preparing them for a confrontation, it wasn't nearly enough. If he'd just rounded up the defenders they could've been gone much faster, but he didn't think sixty or so people, even well armed and equipped, would be enough to scare off a thousand men if they were determined to keep coming.

  Aspen Hill needed a serious show of force.

  Speaking of numbers . . . “Trev, can you see how many of these guys are armed?” he asked as he ducked into the town hall tent, where several of the town leaders and a dozen people had already arrived.

  There was a long pause. “I think it's good news there, at least,” his friend replied. “I don
't see any weapons at all aside from knives, walking sticks, and a few hunting bows and crossbows. These guys don't seem to have many possessions aside from the clothes on their backs, and definitely no supplies.”

  Well that was good and bad news. It meant they'd be easier to deal with and probably wouldn't try anything, but if they had no supplies they'd also be more desperate.

  Matt wasn't sure what Rogers thought the end result would be of this tactic, but it obviously wouldn't be a good outcome for any of them. And while the thousand refugees headed their way represented a threat and a problem, he still pitied them for being dragged into this as pawns in the camp coordinator's scheming.

  He made his way over to Chauncey first. “I'm already on the radio about this,” the retired teacher said. “Although Rogers has the edge on us here since he sent these people, so he's had days to justify it and fabricate a story.”

  “What story?” Matt demanded.

  The older man grimaced and scratched the end of his stump. He usually took off his prosthetic when he was manning the radio, since he spent a lot of his time there and the wooden limb was uncomfortable. At first he'd kept it on when people were around, slightly self-conscious about it, but since that wasn't really practical in the town's hub he'd become more relaxed.

  “Nothing complex, which doesn't help us any,” Chauncey admitted. “Word around is that we agreed to take in the people he's sending our way. The story broke just hours ago, and I didn't link it to us since our town wasn't mentioned by name.”

  “We agreed?” Matt said incredulously. “To take in more than our entire population in young, single male refugees?”

  “I'm spreading the truth as best I can,” his friend said grimly. “But in the meantime we've got a thousand displaced people to deal with and it's our word against Rogers's. We're not going to come out of this looking any better.”