Nathan Jones - First Winter

Of course they still needed to thoroughly purify the water before it was safe for consumption, and Chauncey had supervised rigging up a good filtration system with charcoal and sand, then boiling, which provided enough for the whole town. That didn’t stop a lot of families from boiling their own drinking water to avoid the wait, but most preferred safe to sorry and only drew water directly from the stream for bathing and washing.

A few of the women in town had spoken wistfully of building up a structure around a pool farther down the valley and creating a sort of bathhouse for use during the warmer months. Trev wasn’t sure it would be warm enough to be comfortable even at the height of summer with nuclear winter dropping temperatures, and any effort they put into making it comfortable was more than they could afford.

Creating something like an old-fashioned bathhouse where heated water was provided would be a luxury some entrepreneurial spirit would likely attempt once their situation got a bit more stable, but for now just about everyone in town was stuck with wet cloths and soap. That or a ton of labor hauling water and heating it over a stove. Those who even had tubs large enough to take baths in, that was.

Trev had just finished filling the buckets for the animals when a commotion by the town hall tent farther downstream caught his eye. Matt and Catherine were hurrying towards the road leading through the valley farther north, Chauncey limping after them at the best speed he could manage.

A call from the shelter group’s animal pens turned him back around, and he saw Lewis, Mary, and Gutierrez all running towards him. His cousin and the former soldier both had their weapons ready. Trev dropped the water buckets and rushed to join them, checking his MP-443 Grach in its holster as he went. His AK-47 was at home, since he hadn’t thought he’d need it while doing chores.

“Why don’t you have your radio with you?” Lewis demanded as they came in earshot. “We’ve got a military jeep headed our way. Some decently high ranking officer, looks like.”

Trev felt his face flush. He kept his radio with him at all times, but he’d been so foggy this morning from lack of sleep that he’d forgotten it when he started his chores. Then he’d figured going without it for a half hour or so would be better than wasting the time to go get it.

Guess he was wrong. “Looks like Matt and Catherine are rolling out the red carpet for whoever it is,” he said as he met up with his cousins and Gutierrez. Without a word they all started down the road after the town leaders. “Think they’re here about the veterans we took in?”

Gutierrez shrugged. “Maybe. Don’t see what else they could be here about.”

“There’s all sorts of things they could be here about,” Lewis pointed out. “But the veterans seems most likely.

Trev snorted. “Hey, maybe they’re here to bring supplies for them. Wouldn’t that be nice.”

“In a jeep?” his cousin said doubtfully. “While we’re enjoying some wishful thinking maybe Bryant’s found a source for smokeless powder and primers and sent it our way. We could be making bullets in less than a week!”

“Well whatever it is, we’ll find out soon,” Mary said.

Matt had to admit that his thoughts weren’t fully on the approaching jeep.

Dr. Maggy, as the town’s new OB/GYN had asked them to call her, had checked on Sam yesterday. She’d been encouraging about the condition of his wife and their baby, but she’d also given some slightly confusing advice that felt borderline contradictory.

First off it was time for Sam to stop working at the clinic until the baby was born. Dr. Maggy had told her to avoid all stressful activities, but try to get regular light exercise. She’d also told her to get more rest, but also do her best to be up and about when she could. She’d told her to avoid getting chilled, but try to get fresh air where possible. And so on to diet, hygiene, and on and on.

Matt was fully on board with Sam doing everything she could to stay healthy and prepare for childbirth. He just wished the list of things he needed to remember, to remind her in case she forgot and help her where needed, wasn’t so dauntingly long.

But all too soon the vehicle pulled to a stop not far away from where the impromptu delegation from the town waited, and Matt tore his thoughts away from fretting about his wife and their child for the moment.

There were four men in the jeep, from the looks of it an officer, his aide, and two enlisted soldiers escorting them, one of whom was the driver. The two escorts immediately hopped out to survey the crowd, not quite threatening but definitely ready to use the M16s they held. Meanwhile the officer left the aide behind in the vehicle and came forward alone. He was in his early 40s, pale with hints of sunburn, not overweight but not fit either, and squinted in the early morning sunshine.

Matt stepped out to meet him, but stopped when the man immediately halted to keep a cautious six feet between them. “Major Kyle Rogers, USAF,” the officer said stiffly. The distance might explain why he didn’t offer a handshake.

“Matt Larson, Mayor,” Matt said. He did offer his hand, inviting Rogers to close the gap on friendly terms, but the man ignored it. “What can I do for you, Major?”

Rogers jerked a thumb vaguely westward. “I’m the coordinator of the refugee camp not far west of here. I’ve been hearing about your town a lot lately so I thought I’d come introduce myself.”

“Only good things, I hope,” Catherine said with a smile.

The officer ignored her. “My men have noticed that you always have someone ready to greet new arrivals. So either you’ve got people standing around wasting their time as professional greeters, or you have sentries out a fair ways giving advance notice of anyone who approaches.”

That sounded like a question, but before Matt could reply Rogers continued with a snort. “Which would also be a waste of time, since the military is patrolling a wide area around the mountains. There’s no chance a threat could ever reach this far. Your people have better things to do with their time.”

Matt disagreed. The blockhead raid not far away was a pretty solid indication that they weren’t completely gone. And the Gold Bloc wasn’t even close to the only potential threat in the world. In fact, Matt was starting to get some alarm bells from Rogers himself. The man was deliberately avoiding the courtesies, as if steeling himself up for a confrontation.

That was the last thing Matt wanted. Whatever had got under the man’s grill, he needed to try to smooth things over. “I appreciate the reassurance.” He held out a hand to indicate the rest of the delegation. “Welcome to Aspen Hill, Major Rogers. Would you like to meet our leaders and take a tour of the town?”

The officer gave the group a slightly disdainful look. “I don’t think that’s necessary. I’d rather be about my business and back to my duties.”

“Of course,” Matt replied, although he was fairly sure he’d heard the man say he just wanted to introduce himself. “What can we do for you?”

Rogers’s next words were blunt. “Word is you’ve been poaching people from my refugee camp.”

Matt stiffened warily. “Poaching?”

“What else would you call taking the most hardworking and qualified?” The major shook his head in disapproval. “Not very egalitarian of you.”

It was hard to even think of a way to respond to such an absurd accusation. “We offered some people a better situation than the camp. We can’t take in everyone, only the people who can most help the town. What exactly can you find to criticize in that?”

Rogers ignored the question. “That poaching is why I’m here, to help you make amends. Specifically, however many people you brought in from the refugee camp, you need to take in ten times that many women and children. Widows and orphans. Consider it charity, to make up for your cynical cherrypicking.”