by Nathan Jones
As far as he could tell it hadn't, and the clumsy inspection he made, mostly by touch, reassured him that nothing had been stolen and the vehicle hadn't been tampered with. He had half feared he might find Westman and his barflies poking around while the town slept, and it was a relief to see that nothing was amiss.
“Not much fuel in there.”
Trev jumped a full foot, and it took all his willpower to not shout in surprise as he whirled towards the front porch he'd just walked across. The sheriff was there reclined on his porch swing, a dark shape in the darkness. It was no wonder he'd missed him on his way out.
“Yeah,” he said cautiously. “Enough to make it home, I hope.”
Fred's voice came from the darkness again, sounding thoughtful. “Hard to scout in all directions with no vehicles, but we've followed all the roads hereabouts for at least a hundred miles while scavenging. Must've missed where you live in all that.”
He wasn't about to take that bait. “I suppose if we can't make it the entire distance, we'll find a way to haul our supplies the rest of the way.”
“Fair enough. Got to do what you have to in the world, way it is now.” A sudden twinkle of flame appeared with a metallic clink as the sheriff cupped a lighter to a cigarette, and when the flame disappeared the end glowed orange as he took a deep drag. “Suppose it's useless to ask, but would you consider selling? We mostly want the fuel, but we'd give you good money for the vehicle too. Your choice of precious metals or supplies, enough to set up your entire family here in town for years.”
Trev fought an uneasy surge of suspicion, telling himself it was a fair offer and he couldn't blame the man for trying. “Newtown seems like one of the better places to live,” he admitted. “But we've got family and friends who need us.”
“Yeah, I can understand that too.” Fred took another drag, an exhaled plume hiding the glowing tip for a moment. Trev could smell the smoke drifting his way in the darkness. The sheriff abruptly patted the bench next to him, which Trev heard more than saw; a thump of hand on padding. “Not much else to do this early in the morning. How about you tell me the story of how you came by this Godsend? I'll admit, I've been dying to hear.”
With a shrug Trev made his way over and sat. Fred offered him a cigarette and he shook his head. “No thanks.” With an easy nod the sheriff settled back into an expectant silence, so Trev settled back too and told his story.
He couldn't think of any reason not to. The Gold Bloc was Newtown's enemy as much as everyone else's, and he felt he should do something to repay the kindness Fred had showed in inviting them into his house and feeding and clothing them. That was almost unheard of generosity in these times.
The sun was just moments from rising when Trev finally finished. Fred had a few questions about Gold Bloc movements he'd noticed, and the way the enemy treated their prisoners. He was obviously really worried about news on the radio that the Gold Bloc were continuing their invasion, and concerned about the danger to Newtown.
It didn't seem like it would be a problem any time soon, this far out in the middle of nowhere. But who knew how fast the blockheads would move?
They were interrupted by the sounds of people stirring inside, and the older man sighed. “The Retaliation, they're calling it on the radios. April 26th, a day no one will ever forget.”
Trev hadn't known either of those things. He could've asked Lucas the date while in the internment camp, he just hadn't bothered. “One we shouldn't,” he agreed.
Fred gave him a sharp look. “The blockheads definitely won't. They're already tearing through the poor people they had trapped in their camps, and hunting down any who escaped in the confusion like you and your family. Most all those folks don't have the luxury of a vehicle, and it doesn't look good for them.”
Trev nodded and looked away. He'd had a good idea of what the others who'd escaped the internment camp would be facing, but he'd avoided thinking about it.
“Doesn't look good for us either, if we stay put,” the older man continued in a softer voice. He abruptly stood up, looking rumpled and tired in the wan predawn light. “But that's neither here nor there. Let's see about getting you folks breakfast, then we'll head on over to the General Store and see about getting this truck of yours stuffed with goodies.”
That suggestion improved Trev's mood slightly. He appreciated the sheriff's hospitality, but the sooner they were on their way back home with what they needed the better he'd feel. He stood as well and followed the man inside.
Chapter Two
High Price
Fred treated the family to a generous breakfast of pancakes with butter and syrup, as well as fried strips of potted meat. Then, after everyone had changed into the freshly laundered clothes he'd taken care of for them last night, he once again proved himself a good host by offering to walk along with the family up to the General Store, while giving them a tour of the town along the way.
“It'll be a good chance to stretch your legs before you go out on the road again, and Lucas can bring the truck up to meet us there,” he said with a smile.
Trev's parents and aunt and uncle exchanged glances. “We wouldn't want to keep you from your duties,” his dad said.
The sheriff waved that off. “Are you kidding? With the purchases you guys plan to make you're VIPs, the town wants to roll out the red carpet for you. Besides, it's only neighborly.” He started ushering them out the door, grabbing his cowboy hat as he went. “My boys can handle the town for a few hours on their own. I'm pretty much just a glorified greeter as it is.” He said that last with a chuckle.
To Trev's surprise the town had completely woken up since his early morning conversation with Fred, going from deserted to bustling in just a few hours time. Townspeople were out and about doing morning chores, chatting, or buying and selling. More than a few had set out their wares on blankets and were acting as impromptu vendors. He even saw Westman out in front of his bar, grilling hamburgers and hot dogs for a few waiting customers.
The sheriff noticed him staring at the crowds and grinned. “Bet you thought the place was a ghost town during your last visit.”
“Sort of,” Trev admitted. “I know there's enough houses for hundreds of people, but I didn't see anyone but you.”
The sheriff shrugged. “Timing, that's all. We keep a pretty strict work schedule to make sure everyone's pulling their weight, and you just happened to show up during the middle of the day's main shift. Pretty much everyone was busy, aside from the few layabouts you ran into at the bar.”
“Makes sense.”
Fred waved at the vendors and townspeople going about their business. “Morning and evening is when we do the most trade. Travelers tend to arrive late and stay the night, so it works out best for everyone. In fact, we've got a few groups in who arrived yesterday evening to trade.”
“Trev mentioned the town's gained a solid reputation,” Lucas observed, glancing around as he headed for the truck to meet them at the store.
“Yeah, we have,” the sheriff answered, looking slightly annoyed. Maybe he thought that reputation was being questioned. “In fact, we don't get many people just passing through these days, since almost all our visitors come specifically to trade with us. Your nephew was actually one of the rare exceptions on his last visit.” He smiled. “And your visit this time supports the trend. Let's get started, shall we?”
They drew more than a few stares as they made their way down the street, and many of the townspeople called out their wares as they passed. It was mostly scavenged junk by the looks of it, but there were a few things that caught their eye. Fred didn't give them a chance to browse, though, briskly continuing on towards the store as he gave them a bit of the new town's history and pointed out a few of the more notable buildings.
As Trev followed the sheriff up the street his eyes were drawn past the early morning bustle to the defensible positions Newtown had set up around the town. Maybe it was just his time spent taking shifts at the roadblocks back in Aspen
Hill, but it seemed natural to double-check the town's defenses.
Oddly enough most of the positions were abandoned, with only two lookouts that he could see. The last time he'd come through they'd all been manned, an odd contrast to the previously deserted town, and now it was the opposite. Maybe this was how they ran their shifts in the morning. Either way he trusted Fred knew what he was doing, so he put it out of his mind.
By the time they reached the General Store near the silos they'd drawn a crowd of dozens of townspeople trailing along after them, drawn by the spectacle. The crowd's main attention was the truck, though, and as Lucas drove it up the street and into the General Store's parking lot he even drew a few cheers, like it was a parade. Trev supposed a vehicle was a rare sight these days, worth gawking at, but he hoped the crowd didn't get any ideas as Fred led the family inside to help them find what they needed.
A few people did, drifting into the store after them. Those curious and hopeful townspeople introduced themselves, struck up conversations, offered valuable personal possessions to sell, or subtly probed the family about the possibility of buying their way onto the truck when they left. Fred put a stop to that pretty quick by shooing everyone else out and having a few of his men wait by the doors to keep order, leaving them to make their purchases in peace.
Trev had noticed those deputies hanging around outside the store, maybe to keep order with the morning bustle. Aside from the lookouts he'd spotted earlier they were the only ones he'd seen. Another oddity of the morning shift probably.
His family wasted no time in spreading through the store searching for specific items to meet their needs, although he saw more than one stop to look closer at something that had caught the eye. Trev never thought he'd be along for a shopping spree after the end of the world, but this came pretty close.
The first thing Lucas did was head over to where Deb and Clara waited behind the counter. Deb looked excited by the morning's events, and had waved to Trev and called out a greeting when he came in, while Clara seemed more impatient at all the bother.
After his uncle introduced himself to the two women he got right down to business confirming the value of his gold coins. It turned out, like Trev had learned before, they were still trading pretty well. After that it wasn't so much a matter of deciding what they could afford but of what they needed and had room to take with them.
Wheat came first. Trev and his dad went out to the truck to do some simple calculations on how much space a sack of wheat took. They decided to use sacks rather than buckets, even though they wouldn't store as well long term that way, because it was way easier to fill every square inch of space with grain in cloth sacks. Besides, there were plenty of empty buckets available at home. As for weight, they were pretty confident the rugged vehicle could handle whatever they put in there, short of something like a full load of lead bars.
It turned out they could fit thousands of pounds in the back, stacking sacks right up to the tarp at the front half of the truck bed and halfway up the rest of the way. That created a fairly flat surface where the people who'd have to ride in the back could sprawl, packing the other things they planned to buy around them.
Definitely claustrophobic, but in a way comfier than the hard benches over long periods of time. While the rest of the family got everything else Trev and his dad started hauling the wheat out and packing it in, helped by Max and a couple other General Store employees. Even Fred pitched in for a few trips.
With the wheat taking up most of the space they had to be selective about what else they bought. They focused on getting a few sets of rugged clothes each, complete with boots, socks, and underwear, along with coats, gloves, and warm hats for when it got colder. They also got backpacks, tents, sleeping bags, several full 5-gallon water jugs, a water purifier, and other useful camping supplies.
Lucas purchased the only AK-47 the store had available. Then, or so it must've looked to Clara who was assisting him, he went way overboard buying ammunition, magazines, cleaning supplies, and spare parts for the rifle. That was probably a bit suspicious, but Trev couldn't argue that those things would all be useful for their three other captured weapons. Especially the ammo, which his uncle bought the store out of.
Trev's mom had made a find of her own, several dozen packets of heirloom seeds. Coming back from one trip carrying wheat out to the truck Trev paused to admire her discovery and compliment her own it.
She beamed, although she looked a bit wistful. “It's a shame we lost everything back at the house. I had all the seeds I'd purchased ahead of time, all the way before the Gulf refineries attack, for this year's garden. And I had all the seeds I managed to harvest myself from the garden last fall. And all the extras I had laying around in case I wanted to expand the garden or plant a different variety of crops.” She shook her head in frustration. “A lot of potential left behind.”
No arguing that. His mom's garden had spanned over a quarter of an acre, complete with stone paths and a bench tucked away in a bower beneath an arched grape trellis. She'd spent hours and hours working on it, while Jim and Linda had complained about being roped into working on it too a few times when he talked to them.
Her dream had been to learn enough to make it self-sustaining, so she could maintain it without needing to buy new seeds and plant everything again every year. She'd gotten very good at harvesting seeds and getting cuttings, and from what he'd heard on his rare visits their neighbors often came to her for help with their own gardens. Or to harvest the fresh produce she generously offered them.
It was probably the most significant thing their family had been forced to leave in Greenbush. Those lost seeds were worth their weight in gold, and the garden could've fed them all with a bit of fish and game to supplement their diets. But there was no point looking back.
“Lewis has a pretty good stock of heirloom seeds,” he offered. “We've got our own garden plot going back in Aspen Hill.” He gestured to the packets she held. “These will definitely help, too.”
She nodded and tucked them into her cart, then paused to hug him and kiss him on the cheek before continuing on to search for more sundries that would be useful when they got home. Trev's siblings, cousin, and aunt were doing the same, although he was amused to notice that Jim and Linda had dragged Mary into a conspiracy to fill a cart with seriously overpriced snacks for the trip.
The blond young woman went along gamely, although she was nervously humming a song he didn't recognize. From context it probably involved kids getting a whupping from their parents after they got caught misbehaving.
Finally, even though there were plenty of other things worth buying and they all glanced wistfully at what they'd have to leave behind, the family filed out of the store to finish loading the truck while Lucas tallied up their purchases and paid up.
They still had to consider the remaining containers of diesel they'd left behind that they needed to go back for, which would take up some space. And while they could stand being packed to the gills if they had to, having a bit of room to stretch their legs wasn't the worst thing in the world.
Fred continued to pitch in as they finished the loading, then stood back and whistled while Trev and his dad made a few final adjustments and shifted some things around. “Looks like you got her just about full up.”
“Pretty much, once we've got ourselves in there,” Trev agreed, hopping down to stand beside him looking at their handiwork.
The sheriff squinted up at the truck bed, then sauntered over to the cab to peer inside at the stuff they'd packed into the foot space. “I'd say you did a good job of gathering up the necessities. Just the sort of stuff I'd pack along if I was going to head to greener pastures.” He paused. “In fact, it looks like we won't have to add much to what you've loaded.”
The comment was so offhand, spoken in the same friendly tone, that Trev didn't get it at first. Then he stiffened. “What?”
Fred rapped the truck's hood with his knuckles. “I want to buy this. By which I mea
n I'm going to buy this. I'd like to give you one last chance to say yes of your own free will.”
That knock seemed to have been some sort of signal, because a dozen of his deputies, all heavily armed, abruptly converged on the truck. They weren't quite waving their weapons around, but they definitely had their eye on Trev's family and the crowd of townspeople.
Most of the men went to the locked boxes in front of the store, where customers could safely stow their belongings while they shopped, and began pulling out fully loaded duffels to toss into the vehicle. Others climbed into the back of the truck and began tossing out a few of the sacks of wheat to make room for their things, also dumping the clothes his family had purchased that they didn't seem to need. Everything else in the truck they kept.
The men who'd been keeping the peace in front of the store had disappeared inside, and before too long one emerged herding Lucas, Deb, Clara, Max, and the other employees who'd helped load the trunk in front of him at gunpoint. Inside the store the rest were hastily stuffing more duffels with anything of value.
That seemed like pretty solid confirmation that it wasn't just Trev's family Fred Vernon had betrayed. When the crowd of onlooking townspeople realized it they broke into murmurs of confusion and growing anger, and a few shouted out accusing questions.
Vernon ignored them, eyes still on Trev. He looked back miserably, unable to find any anger or outrage within the overwhelming numbness that had enveloped him. The man's honesty in returning his silver at the end of the last visit, his hospitality in taking them into his house, his generosity feeding them and helping them get the things they need and load them into the truck, all ultimately served to make this theft seem almost inevitable. Like this was the way the world was, now.
“I can't believe you decided to rob us after all,” he said, trying to hide his bitterness. “We were your guests.”