by Nathan Jones
The next few moments were a blur as Trev was mobbed by his family, with his mom and siblings pulling Lucas into the middle of it as well. There was a lot of people speaking at once without anything useful conveyed or understood in the confusion, and repeated questions and exclamations of disbelief.
Linda hadn't stopped hugging Trev other than to hug her uncle, and Jim was jumping up and down in excitement and contributing the lion's share of the confusion by talking a mile a minute about everything that had happened to them, his monolog so rushed and disjointed Trev only caught one word out of three.
Once things calmed down a bit Trev's dad suggested they move inside for more privacy and so they wouldn't be blocking the lane. Trev followed his family down to the tent at the end of that lane, holding Linda's and Jim's hands. Up ahead his mom was grilling her brother on Eva and Mary.
After they were all inside and settled on the family's four cots an expectant hush settled, then Lucas said what they'd all been thinking: that everyone wanted to hear each other's stories. For the sake of avoiding further confusion he suggested they take turns.
There was a bit of good-natured debate about who should tell their story first, but at Trev and Lucas's insistence finally George and Clair agreed to give a rundown on how their family had handled things since the Gulf burned, with Linda and Jim occasionally butting in with their own details.
Thanks to their food storage Trev's family managed to survive through the winter without too much suffering, and being so close to Lake Huron kept the temperature from ever getting too bitter in spite of being quite a bit farther north than Aspen Hill.
The biggest threat had come, as always, from other people. Thankfully, like Aspen Hill Greenbush was out of the way and had a fairly small population. While some of their neighbors had fled, fearing looters and rioters making their way north from Detroit or Lansing, or because there was no easy food being brought in, most people remained and formed a strong community.
In that regard Greenbush had an easier time than Aspen Hill. In spite of fears of refugees or looters coming in large numbers from the big cities, it was mainly the several hundred refugees the city had agreed to bring in as part of their FETF deal who showed up. Fears that refugees would follow Highway 23, which ran through town along the coast of Lake Huron, ended up being groundless.
Most refugees fleeing the big cities followed Interstate 75, which ran well to the west near the center of the state, either going north into Canada hoping circumstances were better there or farther south to flee the coming winter. A few refugees found their way to the town along 23, but in small enough numbers that Greenbush could accommodate them.
Because unlike Aspen Hill, Greenbush had used the money designated to care for refugees to actually construct crude but serviceable shelters and stock up on cheap grains and other necessities prior to the disaster. It wasn't nearly enough to manage the refugees who came for any length of time, and FETF never showed their faces in the area with relief convoys, but it still made a huge difference.
For the rest the town pulled together to feed themselves and the newcomers, relying on fishing the lake and hunting and gathering in the Huron National Forest to the west. Which served them well enough to keep death by starvation at bay for a surprising number of people, with far fewer losses than Aspen Hill had suffered.
His dad grimly mused that if things had kept up like they were then Greenbush would've been a welcoming place to live when Trev arrived, a haven that had weathered the disaster better than 99% of the rest of the country. Electricity was still a problem, but water was plentiful and wood could be harvested from the nearby national forest.
The local government had organized well and set up public works like latrines, water filtration, garbage disposal, and voluntary charitable donation of necessities and even luxuries. The area was mostly ignored, tucked away in a remote corner of the state, and while the town had organized a decent militia for defense there'd been almost no violence to speak of aside from a few scattered breakings and enterings and some highway robbery.
Which wasn't to say things were perfect, and people had still died or gone hungry through the winter. But all things considered they'd done well. His dad assured Trev that he would've liked it, and the community'd had a real chance of a bright future.
Then the Gold Bloc thumbed its nose at the US leaders' ultimatums and invaded. Tens or even hundreds of thousands of troops, mostly from Russia, had poured into the area from the north through Sault Ste. Marie and west from Toronto through the Detroit area. They'd thoroughly swept the state moving town to town from north to south and east to west, transporting the population into this and similar massive internment camps and looting anything of value.
From what his dad had heard they then prepared the existing infrastructure to accommodate settlers from their own countries. That confirmed what Lucas had told Trev, and his uncle quickly supplied his own knowledge of the subject. That really angered Trev's usually even-tempered dad, the thought of the enemy coming to steal the thriving Greenbush they'd worked so hard to build.
At first Trev's family had been hesitant to leave the sanctuary of their prosperous town. That was before the invasion began and they had any idea of what to expect, and that reluctance had remained even as more and more dire warnings about mobilizing troops reached them from the north and east. They were daunted by the prospect of risking the danger of the road, especially to flee to someplace where food would be harder to find and the threat of bandits would be higher.
There was also the fact that they had no easy means of transportation other than walking, and making any sort of trip on foot was daunting when they weren't ready for that sort of rigorous travel. They'd had tentative plans to flee by boat if the Gold Bloc soldiers came, but mostly they'd hoped that Greenbush would be ignored and they could continue living their lives.
At worst they figured the town would be occupied but they'd be left alone to continue as they had, or maybe put under some sort of martial law. Not a pleasant prospect, but better than the alternative of making their way through a country that was tearing itself apart in the chaotic aftermath of a winter where as much as a third of the population had starved or died violently.
By the time they heard the news that internment camps were being constructed to the north to hold large numbers of people it was almost too late. They immediately gathered together the most useful and necessary of their belongings in a small luggage trailer that had been used for family road trips, hauling it by hand as they took off on foot as fast as they could travel.
Unfortunately they didn't make it far, and only managed to travel for a little over two days before being captured just past I-75, where the trail of markers they were leaving for Trev drew the attention of a passing convoy. Trev's fear that something had happened to them where the trail ended had been accurate.
They were taken up to the internment camp as part of the same group that had taken their neighbors in Greenbush and the other nearby towns, and from them they learned that things hadn't gone much better for the town.
The Gold Bloc soldiers had moved fast, sweeping the area nearly as quick as warnings about their progress could be sent out over the radio, and they came by water as well as land so that fleeing onto Lake Huron wasn't an option.
Greenbush had no chance to resist, occupied and disarmed in just a few hours, and over the next few days the people were gathered up and crowded into trucks, where they were reunited with Trev's family and all sent north. The family's experience going through processing had been similar to Trev's, as had their time in camp, although they'd been around for much longer and had been able to observe more about conditions here.
That was where the Smiths' story reached its conclusion, sitting here in this miserable camp for a week and a half.
At the family's insistence Lucas graciously let Trev go next, and he quickly filled his loved ones in on everything he and Lewis and the town of Aspen Hill had been up to over the last half y
ear or so. Then Lucas gave his account of his family joining up with the invasion to find a way into the US, and his work at the camp searching for his sister's family. He also reported on how his wife and daughter were doing and the important details of their lives.
After they'd all shared everything significant they'd been through since the Gulf refineries attack, the few questions people had been politely holding back were tossed around and answered. Then finally everyone fell into a comfortable silence just enjoying each other's company and the joy of being reunited.
After about a minute Trev shifted slightly to a more comfortable position on the cot. “Well I guess Lewis didn't think of everything,” he finally said. “He'd figured Aspen Hill as a near ideal place to set up his shelter to avoid a lot of possible threats, including nuclear fallout, lack of potable water, and hordes of refugees fleeing population centers. It looks like Greenbush turned out to be better.”
His dad snorted. “Aside from being overrun by the Gold Bloc.”
Lucas shrugged. “You can make plans, but it's often hard to guess how things will turn out in the end. Greenbush could've ended up being overrun by refugees from Detroit while Aspen Hill became the secluded refuge. Although that doesn't really matter now that we're all in an internment camp.”
“Well, not all of us,” Trev's mom said, giving her brother a hopeful look.
His uncle got the unspoken question and sighed. “Meaning can I get you all out?” He shook his head. “At best I'm a glorified pencil pusher. I couldn't call in enough favors to manage something like that, and if I tried I can guarantee me and my family would fall under suspicion for possible desertion, or maybe even espionage.”
“Well it doesn't look like we're going anywhere any time soon,” his dad said wearily, resting a hand on Trev's shoulder in unspoken apology. “And so far they've been treating us pretty well. There'll be time to figure something out.”
Lucas nodded. “There will be. Believe me, even before I knew for sure you were all in here I started exploring options. I'll find a way.”
Trev was heartened by his uncle's confidence. Lewis really had taken after his dad, competent and up to any challenge life threw at him. And Lucas had already managed to jump so many hurdles, getting from Norway into the Gold Bloc bureaucracy and joining the invading forces to smuggle his family back into the US, then using his position to find Trev's family and help Trev reunite with them. After all that it wasn't too hard to imagine him finding a solution to this problem too.
“We'll do what we can to help,” Trev said. “No prison is perfect, especially not with help from outside.”
He was a bit abashed when his uncle shot him a stern look. “At the moment you can help by keeping your head down and not drawing any undue attention. The last thing we want is for you to be on any official records so the guards know you exist.”
A somewhat gloomy silence fell. “Well at least we'll be together in here,” Trev's mom finally said, taking his hand. “That's more than we could've hoped for.”
Lucas hesitated, looking at his sister uncomfortably. “Actually Trev's assigned to green section at the moment so he can't stay.”
This drew a chorus of exclamations from his family. “It'll be fine,” Trev assured them. “We can meet up at a mess tent or latrine to visit.”
“Right,” his uncle agreed. “And I'll see if I can arrange for him to be transferred to orange as soon as possible. That's not nearly as difficult as getting you out entirely.” He abruptly stood, looking reluctant. “It would be nice to visit more but I've already been in here for too long already. Drawing suspicion would only make my job harder. Ready, Trev?”
Trev nodded and reluctantly stood as well, going for another round of hugs with his family and accepting their well-wishes. He could tell his mom especially was worried about him being off on his own, and he did his best to look confident as he followed Lucas from the tent.
Things would work out well. After so many things had already gone right in defiance of all probability they just had to.
Chapter Twenty
Northern Light
Lewis and Trev's plot had been partially destroyed during the second missile attack on the gardens.
That was an upgrade from their initial assessment, which was that it had been completely destroyed. The missile that struck at its edge kicked up enough dirt to entirely cover the rest of the plot, along with obliterating about a third of the crop, and Lewis had written it off as lost.
But after a few days the plants that had merely been buried managed to tentatively poke up through the wreckage and continue their determined growth. At least according to Matt, who'd discovered that Lewis and his cousin's garden was still going strong that morning when he'd come to work on the town's new general plot.
It was the one Ian Childress and his son Pete had been tending, but after his dad's death Pete had donated it to the town. After the defeat of the raiders the young man spent most of his time hunting, ranging far abroad searching to see if the Norman family's flock had simply been scattered rather than butchered. He had no time or interest in the garden where his dad had died.
At first Matt had assumed the green shoots poking up through the devastation were weeds, but after he recognized some of the young plants he immediately excused himself from his work and ran to find Lewis and tell him the good news.
As it turned out Lewis had been on his way to the gardens anyway, although not for his garden since he'd resigned himself to it being gone. He was there for trapping, partly on his own behalf and partly because the Mayor had asked him to.
The pests continued to seek out the gardens, which was both a blessing and a curse. A blessing because it meant the town had a steady source of game, maybe not nearly enough to feed everyone but at least enough to help, and a curse because shooting that game was starting to put a serious dent in their supply of ammo.
The deer were nice, but it was the potguts, squirrels, rabbits, and other critters that were the problem. They all had to be stopped before they got at the growing plants, but at this point the meat they provided was barely enough to justify a bullet. The town's ammo supply wasn't infinite, even after everything they'd gotten from the raiders.
To combat the problem Mayor Tillman had suggested traps. Not just snares and coil spring traps but also non-lethal cages and the like. The former hardware and sporting goods store had stocked a good supply of them, and Lewis and others could teach plenty about snares and where to set them. They also had access to the modest animal control center adjacent to town hall with its traps and other tools.
Lewis had eagerly agreed to the task and was ready to throw himself into the work of setting the traps. His motivation wasn't just to protect his friends' gardens, and not just to preserve the town's supply of .22 rounds, and not even for the meat the captured critters would provide.
His plan was under construction at the shelter, which the Larson clan had moved back into along with Jane's group. So far he'd only told his wife his idea, and she'd been so excited by it she'd rushed out to get started the moment he brought it up, and had already been pacing out dimensions by the time he caught up to her.
He'd been partially inspired by the chicken coop Matt planned to build so they could start their own flock, with Jack Dawson's aid after some heated bartering for more layers and the use of a rooster. Sam especially had been excited to put Henrietta to work brooding on her own clutch of eggs.
While helping his friend design the coop Lewis had put two and two together with the trapping Catherine wanted him to do, and came up with the idea for a rabbit hutch.
Using wild rabbits for a hutch would be a bit of a challenge since things like disease were definitely a risk, but among Lewis's many other useful books was one on raising and caring for most farm animals, including rabbits. He was confident he could identify most of the major illnesses that were a risk and weed the infected out, and of course they'd be careful to wear gloves when handling the animals until they could
be sure they were healthy.
Since he was the one assigned to lay the traps it hadn't been too hard to convince the Mayor to let them have their share of the meat in the form of any young healthy doe rabbits they caught live, along with a few of the best bucks to go with them. He planned to start with a half dozen and see how that went.
Not only had Catherine agreed to his request, she'd liked the idea so much that she planned on starting a community hutch for the rest of the rabbits they caught live, at least once they no longer needed the meat and no one in town was starving to death on her watch. She even talked about making her way west over the mountains to Sanpete county to see if any of the turkey farms had survived so they could acquire some to raise.
It was only a small step to restoring the animals Aspen Hill had been forced to eat over the winter to prevent starving, and it might be a long time before they had any horses or cows, or more than a handful of sheep or goats. But if they could manage it they'd be one step closer to prospering as a community.
When Lewis saw Matt hurrying to intercept him halfway to the gardens with news about his and his cousin's plot still thriving his day got even better. After hearing the good news he hurried to see for himself, at least as much as he could while towing a wagon full of traps behind him.
On the way he eagerly asking his friend how the plants looked and exactly how much of the plot was still growing. For his part Matt looked as happy about the discovery as he was, pleased at his friend's good fortune.
“Can telling you about it count as my wedding present?” his friend joked as they trotted towards the south end of town.
“Well I was hoping for a missile launcher, but this is pretty good too.” Lewis glanced back at his wagon. “Tell you what, you can help me set the traps and I'll call you my best man.”
“Deal. I was hoping you'd show me how to set snares anyway.”
They'd almost reached the gardens when the radio crackled. “Matt, you there?” Chauncey asked.