Nathan Jones - First Winter

The one made who knew how long ago, before they’d taken in the Lincolns and the rescued prisoners who’d come back with Trev and Lewis, let alone the skilled refugees and veterans. But Matt doubted he’d have any success arguing that point when it was being used against him.

He sucked in a sharp breath, trying for patience. “So you intend to take back enough food to feed 97 people for six months, directly out of the mouths of the 63 people we’ve taken in since. Many of whom were veterans or volunteers who risked their lives fighting the blockheads, and were seriously wounded or crippled doing so.”

Rogers hesitated, glancing at his soldiers. They were stony-faced and maintained discipline, but Matt was sure the point he’d made wouldn’t sit well with them. The soldiers he’d had an opportunity to know well were all fiercely loyal to their own, especially those who’d been wounded in combat. They were well aware that but for the grace of God…

But the major didn’t let the argument sway him. “Actually, Mayor Larson, once we take the surplus we’ll be returning with the 220 women and children you were told to prepare for.”

Behind Matt the leaders and onlooking crowd of townspeople broke into outraged cries. Matt himself could hardly believe his ears. The man was doing far worse than they’d feared, hitting them every way he could get away with.

Then disbelief faded, and for a moment fury blacked out Matt’s vision. “You know you’re condemning hundreds of people to die by starvation if you do this. Are you actually petty enough to cause that many deaths just to get back at a town that’s done nothing wrong aside from offend your sensibilities?”

Rogers’s eyes glittered, hinting at more vicious emotions than just smugness and contempt. “Don’t play me, Larson. Your town’s doing well, you can easily handle this.”

Lewis spoke up from the crowd. “You have a career in logistics, Major. You know that’s not true.”

Rather than answering the camp coordinator simply motioned to the trucks, whose engines rumbled to life. “We’ll be correcting the mistake and taking the excess food, now. You needn’t cooperate by assisting us, but don’t get in our way.”

Matt said nothing as the camp coordinator hopped into the passenger seat of the lead vehicle and the small convoy continued up the road into town. After exchanging looks with Lewis and the town leaders, and getting nods in return from most of them, he toggled his headset’s mic.

“Trev, mobilize the defenders.”

Trev hadn’t joined the other leaders greeting the major’s convoy.

He had two dozen of his best people arrayed around the large log structure where the town’s surplus was being stored. Hundreds more defenders were waiting in cabins and stick-and-mud huts all throughout the town for his signal in case he needed them. He also had some of his most accurate shooters positioned along the lower slopes to either side of the valley, to protect the town’s leaders and the town itself if it came to it.

As for the townspeople, he’d advised them to hunker down in their homes for their own safety. Doubtless a few of them would peek out to watch the action, but if they chose to do that the risk was on their own heads.

“Are you sure you want to do this?” he asked quietly over the radio as he and his people watched the trucks approaching along the gravel path leading into town. It was too narrow to properly accommodate vehicles, but the drivers were managing the smoothest ride they could. “We’ll be stepping into some serious trouble if this comes to violence.”

Matt’s voice sounded cold as he answered. “You weren’t here for Ferris’s occupation, Trev. Not for the worst of it. I won’t let anyone do that to Aspen Hill again. If we’re going to have to fight for what’s ours anyway, we fight now.”

Trev glanced past the approaching vehicles to the town leaders running to catch up to what was about to happen. “Then you’d better get over here quick, just in case you can talk this down from becoming a bloodbath.”

“We’ll do our best. But that might be up to you.”

Great. Trev was confident his people could deal with however many men Rogers had brought, but the last thing he wanted was to shoot the brave soldiers who’d just spent months defending him and his loved ones from the enemy. Especially not if it meant enraging the thousands more just in this area alone that the military could call in.

Still, he’d been listening in on his friend’s conversation with Rogers, and he agreed that they couldn’t let any of what Rogers wanted happen.

“Weapons ready,” he told his people, unslinging his own rifle and holding it angled low. “But don’t so much as point them at anyone unless they do it first. And for the love of all that’s holy don’t fire a shot until I give the order.”

At his side Deb had raised her pistol. It shook slightly in her hands. “What if they shoot first?” she whispered. “What if they shoot you , and you can’t give the order?”

Trev really hoped it wouldn’t come to that. “Then defend yourselves.”

That was all he had time for before the lead truck rumbled to a stop ten feet away. Twenty soldiers immediately boiled out of all the vehicles, forming up behind the cover their trucks provided with their own weapons ready. At least they weren’t pointing them at anyone either, and they didn’t look particularly happy about the situation.

As for their cover, it wouldn’t help them if it came to violence considering they were in the middle of hundreds of defenders hiding in the surrounding houses.

Rogers stayed in the cab of the lead vehicle, speaking through a built-in public address system. “Stand down, people of Aspen Hill. This doesn’t have to turn ugly.”

Trev raised his voice loud enough that the man could hear it through the glass. “I’d say that’s on you, given you’re the aggressors here.”

That seemed to be all the talking the man was willing to do. He gave a terse order through the PA system, and a score of rifles reluctantly raised to point at Trev and his defenders. Trev stiffened, but before he could raise his own weapon or give the order for his people to do the same there was a shout.

Both groups turned to see the 28 veterans the town had taken in, dressed in their uniforms but unarmed, moving to put themselves between the convoy and the defenders. Even the crippled and seriously wounded were there, supported by their friends.

“What’s wrong with you?” Carrie Grant, near the front of the group, shouted. The scarred, half-blind woman wasn’t talking to Rogers but to the soldiers around the trucks. “You’re pointing guns at the people we swore to protect!”

The soldiers exchanged guilty looks. Most had already lowered their rifles, and the few that hadn’t quickly did so.

Just like that the tense atmosphere was broken, and Trev felt a surge of relief. When the veterans had offered to help earlier he’d insisted he couldn’t ask it of them, but apparently they’d decided to get involved anyway. And it looked like that was just what the situation needed.

Rogers addressed the wounded and crippled men and woman, sounding angry. “You swore oaths to obey orders, but here you are siding against your brothers-in-arms and making a bad situation worse! Stand aside so we can do what we’ve come to do.”

“All due respect, Major, but we’ve been discharged from service with honors. We’re all civilians, and citizens of this town.” That was Derek Withers, leaning against another veteran beside Carrie. The man had lost his right leg at the hip and wasn’t properly healed enough to be putting his weight on the prosthetic he’d strapped on. It pained Trev to see him standing when every second had to be agonizing.