Nathan Jones - First Winter

Either way, he hoped his cousin was okay.

Lewis was relieved to find that with a bit of climbing he was able to reach a spot where he could contact someone. No one from the military itself, unfortunately, but the man he got in touch with was able to send along his message. Along with a bit of swearing at the grisly scene Lewis described.

Before too long he got word back that the military was sending a few squads to check out the scene. Lewis assured them he’d stick around and do his best to fill them in on what he knew. It was a long wait, and he spent most of it on lookout for anyone approaching, glad for the excuse to avoid looking at the sad sight below.

It took almost forty minutes before he heard the sound of two trucks roaring down the highway towards him from the west. He had to admit that even if the military had dropped the ball by letting blockhead raiders get all the way through the territory they were guarding to attack the refugees here, at least they were quick to respond once they were aware of a situation.

He made his way down the hill to where Jane’s bike waited, waving as the trucks braked across the road from him.

From the lead truck an officer in his thirties with the decorations of a captain emerged and strode over, extending a hand. “Captain Griggs, US Army,” he growled. Even as he spoke his eyes strayed to the first of the bodies sprawled not far away, and his expression darkened.

“Lewis Halsson,” he replied, accepting the handshake. “I live in Aspen Hill, not too far from here. I was with a group that passed these refugees almost two hours ago, and we were stopped a bit farther up the road scavenging when we heard the sounds of gunshots and screams. We came to check it out and saw this.”

Griggs nodded, somewhat impatiently. “All right, tell me it all from the beginning.”

Lewis started, basically repeating everything he’d reported over the radio. As he talked the captain motioned for him to follow and made his way over to the nearby body, a woman in her fifties or sixties, and began checking her wounds.

Once Lewis finished Griggs sighed and straightened. “So you’re confident it was blockheads, because they took about half these people prisoner and killed the old people and kids?”

“That’s right.”

The captain nodded, looking more angry than grieved. “You’re probably right. We got a warning from patrols along the perimeter to the northeast that some enemy vehicles might’ve slipped past them. But that’s hundreds of miles away… I never figured the enemy would come this far into our territory.”

“Maybe they’re still used to thinking of it as theirs,” Lewis said.

“Maybe.” Griggs shook his head. “Either way, this isn’t an isolated occurrence. Gold Bloc forces are still attacking innocent civilians outside our area of influence, but even closer to the Rockies we’ve had reports of at least three groups slipping past our defenses. All with results similar to this, although these poor people might consider themselves lucky in a way… when they had the time, in other attacks the blockheads committed unspeakable atrocities on the victims they left behind.”

Lewis thought of Deb and the other freed prisoners who’d come to Aspen Hill, and what they’d suffered. Those the enemy took with them were equally unfortunate. “So it’s not really over, is it? The all out attack may have failed, but they’re going to switch over to raiding us, killing or enslaving anyone they find and taking everything of value.”

“It’s looking that way,” the captain agreed. “Although I suppose the winter will put a stop to that before too long. Not that I’d call that an improvement.”

They fell into a grim silence, contemplating the tragedy around them as the soldiers Griggs had brought with him began spreading out across the area of the attack, investigating what had happened and preparing the bodies for burial.

“How is the fight out there going?” Lewis finally asked.

Griggs snorted. “Judging by the fact that the enemy managed to raid right into the heart of our territory and get away? Not great. Although not as bad as it could be. I’m afraid we overextended.”

Lewis waited patiently, and after a few seconds the captain elaborated.

“The bulk of the Gold Bloc forces have either retreated up into western Canada or east to the territory they hold on the other side of the Mississippi. They’re taking over the existing infrastructure there and bringing their civilians down to settle, even as they continue to enslave or exterminate the remaining citizens in the area. We sent most of our troops across the Mississippi, too, trying to hound the enemy to the point where they give up on the US entirely and join their buddies up in Canada.”

The older man sighed. “Unfortunately they’ve also got squads roaming the Great Plains area, killing, robbing, and enslaving anyone they find, and looting what remains of the towns and cities in those states. The group who attacked these refugees was probably one of those squads.”

“We’re doing something about that, right?” Lewis asked, frowning. “If nothing else, taking the Great Plains would cut off the blockheads in the eastern states from resupply and reinforcements from Canada.”

Griggs gave him a disbelieving look. “Kid, we’ve got less than forty thousand troops free to fight the blockheads. How exactly are we going to hold a territory as vast as the Great Plains with so few men? Even trying would be a waste of time, because the blockheads could just go around us to the north, and they’re not trying to hold the Great Plains anyway.”

Lewis nodded thoughtfully, and the captain sighed again and continued. “We do have some of our best Special Forces units out on the Plains,” he admitted. “It’s much more of a guerrilla war going on there, both sides staging minor raids and taking out enemy squads wherever they find them. Our boys are doing some good against the marauding blockheads, but as you can see plenty are slipping through the cracks.”

“I wonder if winter will kill the war for good,” Lewis mused.

Griggs chuckled. “Look at history, kid. Winter never kills war, just encourages a break for both sides to prepare to get back to it once the snows clear.” He shrugged, as if stretching before a marathon. “It’s not all hopeless, though. We’re in talks with the Canadian government. They were hoping for our help driving the blockheads out of western Canada, but obviously that’s impossible as things stand. As an alternative they’re talking about sending troops down to help us retake the eastern states, in exchange for the US ceding them some of that territory.”

Lewis whistled. “That’s a steep price to pay for a bit of military aid.”

“It’s not exactly like we hold the area anymore,” the captain replied sourly. “And there’s also the fact that the Canadians are being a bit… insistent. They know nuclear winter is going to be bad for them, up north where they are. They want to send a lot of their civilians living in the cities, the people they know are going to have the hardest time surviving extreme conditions, down south where the winter won’t be so harsh. In fact, some reports say they’ve already started sending settlers to the northernmost states.”

The older man snorted. “They’re calling it a “benevolent occupation”. Taking the territory, but also bringing aid to the remaining US citizens they find and letting them keep their land and possessions, as well as offering them full Canadian citizenship.”

That was certainly news. This was the first Lewis was hearing about any of this. “At least they’re honest about it, not calling it “relief efforts” like the Gold Bloc did.”