Ryan Westfield - Fighting Rough

James had been hunting for mushrooms on his own yesterday. He’d become the resident mushroom expert.

The rest of them, Max included, had been back at camp when James had come sprinting back, urgency on his face. He’d been so out of breath that he’d been unable to speak at first.

They’d all seen on his face that something was wrong. Very wrong.

“There’s someone here,” he’d finally said. “Someone from the compound. Less than a mile away.”

“The compound?” Max had said. “Are you sure?”

James had nodded vigorously.

“How do you know?”

“I recognized him. He was in the dining hall with us when we were there.”

“How can you be sure, though?” said Jake.

“He’s got a good memory for faces,” said Sadie.

“I would have just shot him,” said James. “But if there was someone else, I would have just drawn attention to us.”

“You did the right thing.”

It had been a blow to everyone. For the last week, they’d enjoyed an unusual sense of calm at their makeshift camp set up near Jake and Rose’s parked van. No one else knew they were there. They wanted to keep it that way.

It had been close to sundown, and they’d decided it’d be best to set out to investigate the following day. They’d doubled the watch, put out the fire, and suffered through the cold night.

No one had slept much, and when the morning had come, they were all tired and weak from lack of sleep.

“Thanks,” said Max, accepting the mug of coffee that Rose handed him.

He held the hot mug and took a sip of the strong, bitter coffee. It filled him with some much-needed warmth.

It was unusually cold. Winter had come early, and the air temperature was below freezing. Their water had frozen overnight.

“Looks like it might snow,” said John, looking up to the grey clouds that stretched across the entire sky.

“Let’s hope not,” said Max. “We don’t need any more problems. Although…”

“What is it?”

“If there’s someone snooping around our area, snowfall could be a huge help.”

“You’re talking about the tracks?”

“Yeah, we’ll be able to see easily enough if someone’s been here.”

John nodded thoughtfully as he chewed his venison. Venison was practically their only food, aside from the mushrooms James hunted.

Their group was bigger than it had been. John and Cynthia, and Jake and Rose had joined their group less than a week ago. They’d all pooled their food together. But there really hadn’t been much. John had explained how they’d had to ditch most of their food when on the run from the militia scouts.

There’d been some food at the pot farmers tent. They’d had a stockpile of canned foods, along with long-lasting foods like rice and beans. But they’d all agreed that the best thing to do was save the shelf-stable items until they really needed it. If at some point in the future they couldn’t get venison, they’d be glad they’d saved the food. For now, the deer were plentiful. They’d shot two over the last week.

Max finished his portion of venison, drained the last of his coffee, and nodded to Mandy. “Come on,” he said. “Let’s get moving.”

“Almost ready,” said Mandy, not even glancing up. She was checking her rifle.

They finally had ammunition for their rifles. Not a lot. But some. The pot farmers had been fairly well armed. They’d even had ammunition for guns they didn’t have with them.

“You sure you don’t want me to come?” said John.

Max shook his head. “Better to have you here.”

John nodded.

“Ready,” said Mandy, shouldering her rifle.

She and Max set off, heading north, into the woods. They walked in silence for the first ten minutes.

The air seemed to be getting colder. Max had on his jacket, but it was far from being a winter jacket. At least they were moving. That was the best way to stay warm.

When the cold was really bad was at night. Especially without the fire. They had some sleeping bags and blankets. But not enough.

The group’s gear was really a hodgepodge. Bits and pieces. Nothing was complete. The things John and Cynthia had brought had been scavenged from various other peoples’ gear, and then they’d had to abandon half of it.

The things taken from the pot farmers had been useful, but obviously the pot farmers hadn’t been preparing for an event like this. They were just expecting to be out in the woods for a month or so, with regular trips into town, judging from what they’d had with them.

Jake and Rose were a whole different situation altogether. They’d had some invaluable things, like the radio. Not to mention a working van. And some treats, like plenty of coffee. But they had no guns, no knives. Nothing but basic camping gear.

A larger group had plenty of advantages. And a lot more problems.

More mouths to feed, more people to worry about.

Max walked along, lost in his own thoughts, his eyes scanning the cold forest.

Finally, Mandy spoke.

“Aren’t you happy to see your brother again?”

“Of course,” said Max. “Why?”

Frankly, the question puzzled him.

“You haven’t seemed happy since he got here. And you hardly talk to him. He clearly wants to talk to you.”

Max shrugged. “We’re trying to survive,” he said. “There’s no time for happiness. We’re either alive or we’re not.”

“But you know what I mean. He’s your brother. I hardly hear you two talking. Was that how your family was or something?”

“I’m not going to get into my whole family history,” said Max. “It’s not important. Not now. Keep your eyes open for anything unusual.”

“Nothing so far,” said Mandy. “I just don’t get the thing between you and John.”

Max sighed. “Fine,” he said. “You really want my thoughts on it?”

Mandy nodded. “It’s like prying nails sometimes with you. Go ahead. Please.”

“We weren’t that close,” said Max. “I’m happy he’s alive, obviously. He’s very different now than he was. The EMP changed him. Probably for the better. I think he can be a big help to us.”

“Real deep,” muttered Mandy.

Max shrugged and looked to the sky. A single snowflake fell onto his nose.

“Snow,” said Max. “I guess John was right.”

“I hate the snow,” muttered Mandy. “Makes me thinks of having to shovel out my car. And dealing with traffic.”

“Well, that’s not going to be a problem. Although the roads could get bad without anybody plowing. Depends how much it snows.”

“Hopefully it doesn’t come to having to deal with that. I’m liking having a camp, a home base. Rather than being on the move.”

“Me too,” said Max. “But it doesn’t really matter what we like.”

“Yeah,” said Mandy, finishing his thought for him. “It’s about what keeps us alive. You’ve told us all countless times.”

Over the next hour, they traveled in a large arc around the campsite. There were no signs of anyone. The snow continued to fall. It was picking up, and showed no signs of slowing down. Soon, there was a light covering of snow on the ground.

“We’re making tracks,” said Max, pointing down to their footprints.

“I don’t know if that’s good or bad.”

“Could be both.”

“We never talked about what we’re going to do if we find someone out here,” said Mandy. “Are we just going to shoot them dead? After all, we can’t let the compound know we’re here. I’m not hesitating this time. I’m not going to let that stuff get to me again. My trigger finger’s ready. No hesitation.”