Nathan Jones - First Winter

It brought Trev back to his bike trip to Michigan last spring, when he’d spent long days putting the miles behind him. That had been a hard and exhausting journey, with more than its share of fear and misery. But there’d been plenty of enjoyable moments too, and most of them involved the wind in his face as the road blurred by beneath him.

The long mountain roads gently sloping downwards to Aspen Hill Canyon were the best for picking up some serious speed, while the sharply twisting canyon canyon road required them to frequently brake for sharp turns, at least once they got past the blocked off part. Those steep corners provided their own enjoyment as he and his cousin took them at borderline dangerous speeds, although Trev felt a bit irresponsible considering the kids following behind. Common sense prevailed and he slowed down.

Even so, it felt like no time at all before they were passing the burned hulk of Aspen Hill. The sight sent a surge of pain through Trev, not only at what they’d lost but at his failure to prevent it, irrational as that was. He had a feeling the others felt the same; the banter fell silent as they concentrated on hurrying past at the best speed they could manage, and their good cheer didn’t make a comeback until the ruined town was out of sight behind hills.

The second leg of the trip along Highway 6 was uphill again. Nowhere near as steep as Aspen Hill Canyon, but it definitely got their lungs burning and turned their legs to rubber, forcing frequent stops to dismount and walk their bikes for a while. Trev could’ve gone for much longer at a better speed, but that’s how traveling in groups went; they were always limited to the pace of the slowest member. Which was fine, and kept the trip more relaxed.

At least for everyone but Linda, who did her best with her obvious (and vocal) misery to show everyone she regretted her decision to come along. But in spite of her complaining she pushed hard to keep up, which was something.

Just before reaching their destination they passed a group of refugees coming the other way, maybe 50 people escorted by several soldiers. The refugees had stopped for lunch, which prompted a rest break for Lewis’s group as well that Linda practically demanded. During that break Trev, Lewis, and Jane, less tired than the others, took a moment to briefly chat with the leader of the refugees and the soldiers guarding them, and learned that the large group wasn’t just randomly wandering.

The military, no fools, had realized that for all the safety the mountains offered they were going to be a horrible place to be once winter rolled around. Especially nuclear winter. Ever since the blockheads left two and a half weeks ago, they’d been having their scouts on patrol also keep an eye out for likely spots in the valleys east and west of the mountains. Whenever they found one they encouraged as many refugees as the spot could accommodate to move there, and once the people were relocated they trucked in supplies for them, their 6 months of rations as well as any necessities the refugees couldn’t carry on their backs.

It seemed like a pretty good deal to Trev, all things considered. The only downside was that the relocated settlers had to walk to their new homes. To that the refugee leader stoutly replied that since most of them had already walked so far already, a little farther was bearable.

The soldiers seemed curious about why Lewis was towing an empty trailer, and his cousin obligingly pulled a spent shell casing from his pocket to show them and explained about his reloading idea. Trev couldn’t help but think that considering how serious Lewis was about collecting as much brass as he could before other people had the same idea, he sure was telling anyone who would listen.

But on the plus side the soldiers, who’d been slightly suspicious, relaxed at the explanation. Most seemed amused, as if they thought it was a waste of time, but they wished his cousin and the group the best of luck in their scavenging as they returned to the refugee group and their lunch. Lewis led the way back to their group as well, declaring the break over to groans from Linda and Eve, which he responded to with amusement.

“We only stopped to talk to the refugees,” Jane said, pointing. “Where we’re going is literally just over that next hill. You can ride another hundred feet.”

That ended the complaints, and even Linda pedaled with a last burst of energy as they reached the former battle front and made their way to the US side of the no man’s land. When they got there Trev and the others who were seeing it for the first time gawked at evidence all around of the major conflict that had taken place here for weeks in the final phase of the fighting.

It was easy to fall into the trap of believing that the war he and the other volunteers fought near Highway 31 was how it had been everywhere. But they’d been at a relatively small, out of the way place guarding a blocked road, and the enemy had been focusing their attention on places like this.

Lewis didn’t give them much time to take it in, hopping off his bike to break out garbage bags and gardening gloves and pass them out. “Remember,” he said. “We’re looking for brass that hasn’t been bent or damaged. I plan to round up to the nearest thousand with any extra shells you gather, but if you bring me too many unusable ones I might be tempted to round down instead.”

There were nods all around, and immediately the group split up to begin their hunt.

Lewis had Trev and Deb go farther up the road to keep an eye out for potential threats coming their way, while he and Jane stayed at the other end where they could keep a casual eye on the refugee group, just as a precaution.

In between them the kids scurried around in a crouch, gloved hands stuffing handfuls of shiny brass into the garbage bags they dragged behind them. Trev worked at a slightly less frantic pace, wanting to keep half an eye up the road, but Deb was just as eager as the others.

“This is fun!” Eve called enthusiastically to her brother from not far away, coming up with another handful of casings. “It’s like a scavenger hunt!”

Trev couldn’t help but think wryly that a generation of kids brought up on internet and video streaming for movies and TV shows must be pretty hard up for entertainment to enjoy something like this. It did have its own mindless enjoyment, sure, but it wasn’t exactly exciting. Although he couldn’t complain that she was bringing a good attitude to it, considering the alternative.

He tried not to glance at Linda as he thought that. Even with gloves on his sister looked squeamish about rummaging around in the dirt, and she kneeled on the edge of the garbage bag so she wouldn’t get her knees dirty. But she was finding brass just as quickly as anyone, eager for the honey treats she’d been promised.

Trev noticed with some amusement that Alvin and Wes were working not far from the young woman, trying to engage her in casual conversation that did a poor job of hiding their interest. As for Linda, even though she seemed to enjoy the attention she wasn’t giving the two young men an easy time of it. It was pretty obvious she wasn’t interested in either of them, and Trev felt a bit bad for Alvin especially. The recently orphaned young man had obviously had a crush on her almost from the moment she’d arrived at the shelter, in spite of his poor chances.

Oh well. They all had a lot of growing up to do before seriously considering dating or marriage.

Which was a shame. Trev liked Alvin, and his sister could do worse than an honest, hardworking guy like him. He supposed he felt a bit protective of the young man considering his father, Tom Harding, had died because Trev led him and the rest of his squad in a reckless ambush that had ended up with them getting ambushed in turn.