Nathan Jones - First Winter

Trev stayed where he was, watching her go. A few weeks felt like a long, long time. Concern for her aside, he wasn’t sure he could endure that. There was also the worry that stepping back would give her some perspective, and she might decide she was better off without him and make a clean break after all.

Or it might give her a different kind of perspective, and when they got back together the relationship could grow more naturally. He could only hope. Whatever happened he could live with, as long as it helped her heal after what she’d been through.

Matt wasn’t sure whether or not the evening commemoration of the Gulf refineries attack, and all who’d died during it and since, had improved the mood in town or made it worse. On the one hand it gave those who’d suffered losses a chance to grieve. On the other it reminded the townspeople that everything was messed up.

Just when they thought their troubles with the blockheads were over, and they could fully focus on their troubles with the upcoming nuclear winter, suddenly more men with guns roll around to cause problems they might not be able to handle. Sometimes life just decided to keep grinding you down beyond the point where you could take it.

Whatever the mood, attendance at the ceremony looked to be nearly the entire town. Hundreds of people packed into the meadow, including those who usually didn’t bother coming to town events. Only Trev’s defenders on patrol and sentry duty weren’t able to participate, although many came to pay their respects beforehand or intended to do so afterwards.

That included Trev himself, who’d swapped shifts to go out patrolling. Matt wasn’t sure what had brought that on, but from the general whispers around the shelter group he had a feeling his friend was having problems with Deb. Some sort of argument, maybe. Matt missed him being there, but he could understand the need to get away sometimes.

The ceremony itself was fairly simple. Matt had staked out a spot where people could leave mementos of those they’d lost, with the intention that once times were better the town would put up a monument here engraved with all those names. He’d also roped off a modest sized plot in the meadow to be converted into a memorial park when times were better. The other town leaders had approved the idea, and were there along with almost everyone else in town laying down mementos.

Matt gave a short speech, feeling awkward and inadequate to be addressing such a serious topic. From there he let the event progress in a more organic fashion as people filed respectfully past the monument location. Final goodbyes were offered, prayers said, and tears shed. People clung tightly to their loved ones through it all.

Including Sam, who wouldn’t let him take his arms from around her except to greet their friends and neighbors. She was quiet and subdued, dark eyes shiny with tears for her own loved ones lost in New York. Matt knew things hadn’t been perfect with her family, but the grief was just as strong over missed opportunities. He knew she kept that grief buried deep and rarely mentioned her past or speculated on the fate of those she’d left behind back east, but it still weighed on her.

He wished he could think of anything to do for her there, and felt a bit selfish being so glad his own immediate family was safe with him. There were others in his extended family whose fate was unknown and not looking good, and he grieved them, but he couldn’t fully know what his wife was going through. He could only imagine, and that made him hold her all the closer.

Whatever the ceremony did for morale, it definitely seemed to bolster everyone’s determination to push forward. The next day marked one of the most productive Aspen Hill had seen. Considering how hard everyone had been working even at the worst times getting ready for the winter, that was something remarkable to see. For a time, at least, people seemed to have pushed aside the specter of Rogers and the trouble that loomed over the town. They were getting back to their lives, which was a relief to see.

It wasn’t to last, though. Three days later, five days after the major came for their surplus food, they finally found out how he intended to respond to being run out of town.

It started late in the afternoon, when Trev on far patrol tersely radioed in to report that he’d seen a large group of refugees approaching on foot.

Matt felt a sinking in his gut at the news. This had been the most likely way Rogers would come at them, by simply sending the refugees he’d demanded the town take in. That would put them in the uncomfortable position of having to turn them back, with all the attendant guilt, and he’d be able to blast them in the court of public opinion.

“Is it the 220 women and children Rogers wanted us to take?” he asked his friend, giving Sam and the rest of his family a reassuring look as he stepped into his boots, grabbed his M16, and headed out the door. The gun certainly wouldn’t be used in this situation, but taking it was second nature to him now.

“I wish,” Trev replied grimly, voice staticky over the radio from a distance. “We’ve got adult males, mostly between the ages of 20 and 35 as far as I can see. I’m still counting, but a rough estimate puts them at around a thousand.”

Matt stumbled over nothing, heart suddenly pounding in his ears as a ball of pure panic and dread slammed into his gut. A thousand. That was more than the entire town’s population. There was no way Rogers could’ve thought they’d even be able to take in so many, let alone would agree to it, and the chance of violence resulting from it was incredibly high. Was the man insane?

Chauncey’s voice joined in. “How far out?”

“They don’t seem to be in any hurry,” Trev replied. “I’d say we’ve got two hours before they reach town. Although I strongly advise against letting them get anywhere near us.”

“I agree completely,” Matt said. He made for the town hall tent, as the central location in town and the spot where the most people tended to be found. “Listen up, everyone. We’re going to gather every single person in town who can competently carry a gun, then we’re going to meet these refugees on the road and turn them back politely but firmly. We leave in a half hour.”

That sounded like a long time, but when it came to gathering and gearing up hundreds of people, not to mention preparing them for a confrontation, it wasn’t nearly enough. If he’d just rounded up the defenders they could’ve been gone much faster, but he didn’t think sixty or so people, even well armed and equipped, would be enough to scare off a thousand men if they were determined to keep coming.

Aspen Hill needed a serious show of force.

Speaking of numbers… “Trev, can you see how many of these guys are armed?” he asked as he ducked into the town hall tent, where several of the town leaders and a dozen people had already arrived.

There was a long pause. “I think it’s good news there, at least,” his friend replied. “I don’t see any weapons at all aside from knives, walking sticks, and a few hunting bows and crossbows. These guys don’t seem to have many possessions aside from the clothes on their backs, and definitely no supplies.”

Well that was good and bad news. It meant they’d be easier to deal with and probably wouldn’t try anything, but if they had no supplies they’d also be more desperate.

Matt wasn’t sure what Rogers thought the end result would be of this tactic, but it obviously wouldn’t be a good outcome for any of them. And while the thousand refugees headed their way represented a threat and a problem, he still pitied them for being dragged into this as pawns in the camp coordinator’s scheming.