Nathan Jones - First Winter

The soldiers who’d come with Rogers were looking distinctly uncomfortable at this point. So much so that when Rogers’s voice crackled through the public address system, ordering them to usher aside the unarmed veterans and resume their firing positions, nobody moved to comply.

Into that awkward silence Matt and the other town leaders finally arrived, to Trev’s relief. His friend took one look at the situation and then turned not to Rogers but to the soldiers with him, addressing his words to them.

“I have nothing but respect for all of you,” he said firmly. “You risked your lives to defend us, went through hell and watched friends die for our sake. Many of you were wounded mind and body to keep this town safe, and that’s a sacrifice we can never repay.”

Matt raised his voice, every inch the Mayor. “The last thing we want is to turn our weapons on you, and we’ll only do it to defend ourselves. But we can’t let you take food we desperately need. It would be as good as murdering dozens or even hundreds of our friends and neighbors. Please, ask yourselves if you’re in the right here, if you really want to harm those you risked your lives to defend, just to follow the orders of a corrupt bureaucrat.”

Rogers finally decided that staying safe in the cab of his truck wasn’t inspiring his troops. He hopped down to face off against Matt, glaring murder. “I’m a Major in the United States Air Force!” he bellowed. “I earned my rank through hard work, sacrifice, and dedication to my country! You’re nothing but liars and thieves willing to kill US soldiers over a few stale donuts!”

Matt ignored him, eyes on the soldiers. That’s where Trev’s eyes were, too. It definitely looked as if Rogers wasn’t going to get his way here, but if the camp coordinator ordered his men to simply shove the veterans and defenders aside so they could take the food, Trev doubted either he or Matt would be able to bring themselves to order their people to open fire.

The situation would probably devolve into a fistfight, and that would be bad for Aspen Hill. Men who might balk at shooting civilians might not feel quite as squeamish about bludgeoning them down, if they felt like they weren’t completely the aggressors. And in that sort of chaos a fistfight might turn into a firefight after all, especially if Rogers’s men were on the losing end and felt there was no other choice.

But the major hesitated, considering what to do, and in that tense silence a young private stepped out of line and slung his rifle back over his shoulder. Expression determined, he turned to face his superior officer. “Sir, in good conscience I can’t be part of this.”

“You’ll do as you’re told, soldier!” Rogers snarled. He motioned to two other men. “Disarm him and bind his hands. Toss him in the back of a truck.”

Those soldiers also slung their rifles, but rather than obeying they moved to stand with their comrade in arms. That seemed to be the straw that broke the camel’s back, because within seconds Rogers’s entire force had stood down.

An imperceptible movement rippled through the defenders, as if sheer relief carried a weight. Matt nodded to Trev, and at his gesture the defenders put their weapons away as well.

Rogers looked so pissed off Trev wouldn’t have been surprised if the man grabbed his own pistol and started firing. Instead he turned to his soldiers. “We’ll return to camp,” he snapped. “We can deal with this mutiny there.”

The soldiers silently hopped back in their trucks and drove off. The tension broke at that point, and everyone breathed a sigh of relief. The crowd quickly devolved into hugs and backslaps in a subdued but heartfelt celebration.

Trev broke away from Deb and his defenders to shake hands all around with the veterans who’d interceded on the town’s behalf, personally thanking each. Carrie looked a bit embarrassed at his praise, flushing beneath her livid scars, but her shoulders were squared proudly. Soon Matt, Lewis, and most of the town’s leaders had joined him, then the rest of the town, until the veterans were surrounded by a grateful crowd.

In spite of the mood of his relief Trev couldn’t really get into the celebration, though. This was the sort of hollow victory that could easily lead to far bigger problems in the future. He sought out his uncle, Lewis, Matt, Catherine, and Chauncey and pulled them aside a bit.

“I don’t think what happened here is going to solve many of our problems,” he said quietly. “Unless the mutiny spreads and Rogers is removed from his position, he’ll either transfer or punish the soldiers who came with him today to make sure something like this doesn’t happen again. And the fact that they obeyed his order to leave, and showed strict military discipline doing so, suggests that the mutiny ended once the crisis did.”

Lucas nodded. “All we accomplished here was to give him even more reason to come after us, and if he’s smart we’ve also handed him the public perception artillery to make us look like the bad guys. An armed group of defenders chasing him out of town isn’t hard to smear as a violent mob.”

Matt grimaced. “Let’s get ahead of this situation. Chauncey, I want you to be on the radio 24/7 explaining the situation to anyone who’ll listen.”

The retired teacher rubbed at his stump around the prosthetic Rick had carved for him. “You know I have been doing that, and it hasn’t exactly made this problem go away. At best I might not be able to do more than muddy the waters enough that nobody cheers when the military comes for us.”

“We can’t fight off the entire military,” Catherine warned. “It would be suicide to even try. Even if it was just Rogers and the men he has in his camp coming our way it would be tough to handle, especially if he’s got heavy weapons or serious crowd control.”

“I wasn’t finished,” Matt replied. “We need to try to go over Rogers’s head, contact the highest ranking military officers still in the area and explain the situation to them. The challenge will be to make a more convincing argument than one of their own officers.”

“Again,” Chauncey insisted, “I’m not having any luck with that. The higher-ups in the military have too much on their plate to pay attention to a minor dispute, and their subordinates have no interest in going out of their way to pass a message along. I can see if any officers that the town or the volunteers worked with while fighting the blockheads are still around to speak in our favor, and of course I’ll fight any misinformation Rogers tried to spread. But I can only do so much over a radio.”

“I agree.” Matt looked around at Trev and the leaders. “Which is why with your approval I want to send my dad, Lucas, Ben Thompson, and Scott Tillman to head over the mountains to Manti. They can try to get a meeting in person with whoever’s in charge there and plead our case.”

Trev agreed that it was probably a good idea to send their people for a face to face, although he didn’t like the thought of sending a group that distance without bringing any of his defenders along. Not that he didn’t think the four men could handle themselves, as they’d more than proven they could in the past. And the choice of destinations was a good one, too; the camp just outside of Manti was where the remaining military leadership and the largest bulk of the refugees were resettling now that the blockheads were gone. Which meant it was their best hope of finding someone who could intervene on Aspen Hill’s behalf.

“Include me and Lewis in the group,” he insisted. “A bit of added protection.”

“And me,” Deb cut in. At some point Jane had appeared at Lewis’s side, managing to convey without words that she intended to come along as well.