Nathan Jones - First Winter

He made his way over to Chauncey first. “I’m already on the radio about this,” the retired teacher said. “Although Rogers has the edge on us here since he sent these people, so he’s had days to justify it and fabricate a story.”

“What story?” Matt demanded.

The older man grimaced and scratched the end of his stump. He usually took off his prosthetic when he was manning the radio, since he spent a lot of his time there and the wooden limb was uncomfortable. At first he’d kept it on when people were around, slightly self-conscious about it, but since that wasn’t really practical in the town’s hub he’d become more relaxed.

“Nothing complex, which doesn’t help us any,” Chauncey admitted. “Word around is that we agreed to take in the people he’s sending our way. The story broke just hours ago, and I didn’t link it to us since our town wasn’t mentioned by name.”

“We agreed?” Matt said incredulously. “To take in more than our entire population in young, single male refugees?”

“I’m spreading the truth as best I can,” his friend said grimly. “But in the meantime we’ve got a thousand displaced people to deal with and it’s our word against Rogers’s. We’re not going to come out of this looking any better.”

“Speaking of which, I’d better get to dealing with those thousand refugees.” Matt clapped the retired teacher on the shoulder and turned to the gathering group. “All right, everyone. Let’s coordinate to split up and scour the town for as many townspeople as we can get to come with us, as long as they can keep up a reasonable pace for a half hour or more. We want everyone armed with rifles, body armor for as many as we can, dark clothing if possible so we look more coordinated and competent. Emphasize that we’re not going to a fight, just to intimidate them into turning back. I don’t expect violence, but don’t dismiss the possibility.”

In a few minutes he’d gotten almost everyone split up to their tasks. As for the dozens of people who’d already gathered, curious about what was going on, he started organizing them in handing out the town’s store of weapons, ammo, and other gear. He also put the obvious noncombatants to work sorting out enough water and provisions to last everyone the night if necessary, including camping gear to that list. Most people were sensible enough to have prepared packs with the essentials, and the others quickly ran home to throw them together.

Lewis, Gutierrez, Jane, Trent, Rick, Alice, and others he could depend on quickly arrived to pitch in. Matt put them to work splitting everyone into squads, with them and others among the most competent volunteers and defenders as leaders. He declined to lead his own squad, since he’d need to focus on his role as Mayor and spokesman.

Too bad Trev seemed determined to be out on his own the last few days. Matt was all for leading by example and being willing to do the less desirable tasks and all that, and Trev was definitely doing an important job scouting the approaching refugees to make sure there were no surprises.

Even so, he would’ve preferred if the leader of the town’s defenses was actually here, leading its defenses.

In his friend’s absence he assigned Gutierrez to lead the group, with Lewis as his lieutenant in charge of the volunteers and defenders who’d be out in front. With the group well in hand, that gave Matt and the town leaders breathing room to focus on how they’d approach negotiating with the refugees to turn them back.

There were roughly four hundred rifles in town between what they’d originally had, what they’d gotten from Turner’s raiders, and the far larger number the volunteers had captured from the blockheads. After the prolonged fight with the Gold Bloc they’d used up all their grenades and Molotov cocktails, and likewise their M2s and missile launchers were either destroyed or out of ammo and had been traded to the military for supplies. They had a modest supply of pepper spray and a bit of other riot control gear, but not enough to handle even a few dozen people, let alone a thousand.

Just in case this was some trick of Rogers’s to lure out all of Aspen Hill’s defenses so he could come in and occupy the vulnerable town, Matt took only 300 townspeople with him when they were ready to leave. He left the rest of the weapons and several defenders behind, led by Jane with Deb and Grant assisting her. There were enough pistols to arm a large portion of the townspeople if those leaving to handle the refugees left behind their sidearms, but Matt wasn’t sure that was wise.

In the end he left the best balance of weapons he could to keep the town safe, while still presenting a strong show of force to the approaching mob. Although he worried for those he left behind as he, Gutierrez, and Lewis led their own mob out to meet them.

They started off at a jog until they reached the base of the valley’s western slope, and took it at a fast walk until they reached the top. There they jogged again along the slight downward slant of the road until it evened out, where he let them slow to a normal walk to let them catch their breaths and ease burning calves.

Nobody in town was eating well, and although everyone was in decent shape thanks to constant work, that work also left them worn down. It was a hard pace to maintain, but every foot they managed to go before encountering the refugees meant one foot farther from town they’d turn the men back, in case there was trouble.

Worst case scenario would be if the refugees outright attacked them and by some miracle won, took their weapons, and continued on to Aspen Hill. But it would also be pretty bad if they decided to split up into dozens or even hundreds of small groups and dispersed into the countryside. The town could find itself beset on all sides, hassled, aggravated, and forced to constantly deal with unruly intruders.

Or maybe they’d get lucky. Maybe Matt could convince these guys this was all a misunderstanding and they should head back to the refugee camp. And maybe roast geese would drift down from the sky beneath parachutes made of down comforters, and they’d all get a nice meal and a good night’s sleep.

Trev met up with them 40 minutes later, a bit more than 3 miles from town. He’d been radioing in regular reports as they ran, confirming the refugees were sticking to the road and hadn’t sent out scouts. They’d moved even slower than his friend had predicted, and while Matt still wasn’t best pleased with how close they were to the valley, at least they were farther than they could be.

On Trev’s advice they sent a dozen people in pairs out to circle around the footsore horde and watch them from all sides. The rest of the town’s show of force set up in an ideal spot along the road to confront them, waiting behind a ridgeline until the refugees got close, then in good order coming into view as a long line with three ranks.

The men below immediately halted, milling on the verge of panic as they tried to figure out what was going on. They obviously hadn’t expected to be greeted by hundreds of armed men and women, a group that was obviously far too large and well equipped to be bandits. Again Matt felt a surge of pity for the poor people, but there was no help for it.

This problem wasn’t of his making, but he was the one who had to deal with it.

At the same time that was a lot of people down there. It wasn’t as if Matt hadn’t seen crowds before, even ones much larger than this. And just days ago he’d addressed practically the whole town at the commemoration, which had been nearly this many people. Still, the knowledge that even if the refugees were friendly they presented an issue for the town, and if they were unfriendly a potential threat, made the numbers far more daunting.