Nathan Jones - First Winter

“There’s one other big piece of news,” Chauncey said. “I’m not sure it’ll directly help us with our refugee camp coordinator problem, but it’s indirectly related.”

Matt frowned. “What is it?”

The retired teacher looked to the side as if gathering his thoughts. “Well, even though the military is mostly controlling what goes over the radio, Rogers’s behavior is calling into question things like overreach of military power and lack of a civilian government. It’s mostly still an undercurrent at the moment, but people are genuinely worried about the possibility of a military dictatorship.”

“Possibility?” Lewis said. “All respect to Generals Lassiter and Erikson, but we’ve pretty much been in one of those since they came to the Rocky Mountains. Although there wasn’t much worry about that while we were fighting the blockheads.”

Chauncey hesitated. “There’s plenty I could say about how far the nation has strayed from its roots, and watching it all collapse after the Gulf burned certainly didn’t help. But the majority of US citizens still have a healthy disdain for tyranny, and now that the crisis has passed they want Caesar to set aside his dictatorial powers, so to speak.” He shrugged. “To get to the point, more and more people are talking about reinstituting the civilian government and holding some form of elections.”

“Well that’s good,” Matt said. People like Rogers would have trouble getting away with anything if they were accountable to someone besides fellow military officers who might be inclined to take their side.

“Good, but it doesn’t really help us. There’s no time to organize any of that before the first snows, and anyway people are focused too much on surviving the coming winter to spare the time. That’s something for next spring, assuming nuclear winter gives us a summer before the snows start falling again.”

Trev grimaced. “So it’s not actually good news.”

“I never said it was.” The retired teacher shrugged again. “If nothing else, the idea of future civilian authority and having to deal with politics might make our rogue major a bit more cautious about his public image. Assuming the military is actually willing to cede power to a civilian government.”

“Fantastic,” Matt muttered. “That’s the sort of optimistic thinking I like to hear.” He clapped the older man on the shoulder. “Anything else?”

Chauncey sighed. “It’s been fairly quiet around here, but Brandon’s patrol radioed in about a camp to the north that a handful of refugees are setting up for the night, close enough to town to warrant sending them packing. He’s heading in to do that now.”

Matt noticed Trev stiffen slightly. Deb was still on Brandon’s team, and he understood his friend’s worry. But so far they’d encountered quite a few people setting up camp within their territory, mostly out of ignorance, and only a few had caused real trouble when the defenders demanded they move. Besides, a few refugees didn’t seem like too great a danger.

“Tell him to be careful,” he said anyway.

“Will do,” the retired teacher replied, bending back over his radio.

Matt sighed. “In the meantime I need to have a conversation with some of our people who want to go out and hunt, even with all these bandits around causing problems. Why don’t you come with me and tell them why that’s a bad idea, Trev?” If nothing else it would take his friend’s mind off any worry for his kind-of girlfriend.

Deb missed Trev. No, not because she was emotionally dependent on him and had become a wreck without him. At least not like she had been.

But she liked being around him. He tended to look on the bright side of things while acknowledging life’s imperfections, but he didn’t let any of that keep him from sincerely caring. Or from finding humor in topics she would’ve found troubling otherwise, somehow managing to set her at ease and help her look on the bright side too.

Still, with all the tension and trouble around his presence would’ve been a comfort. It didn’t seem fair that she couldn’t at least say hi every once in a while, let him know she was still alive and doing okay. And since she was avoiding him it was awkward to hang out with his family, too, so that was more of her close friends she was isolated from. Even being with Linda wasn’t like it had been, although the girl wasn’t the easiest friend at the best of times.

Regardless of how people walked on eggshells around Deb, not to mention acting like her emotional baggage impacted her ability to think, she wasn’t stupid or a child. She knew Linda well enough to know that when the girl had come to warn her about Trev’s intervention, the truth might be slanted by Linda’s perspective. Deb could also guess at where the girl might’ve smudged the facts.

Yes, Trev’s family were nice people and they cared about her. They might be worried for Trev, but they wouldn’t leave Deb out for the wolves even if they thought it was the best thing for him. Which they didn’t. They just saw a problem and agreed it needed to be addressed. Which Deb was just fine with, since she wasn’t blind to the problem either.

In a way they really had helped her by suggesting she and Trev take a break. It had given her a chance to straighten out the parts of her thinking that’d been going bendy. And hopefully before too long she could try again and things would work better.

Although now wasn’t really the time to be thinking of all that.

Not that the four men huddled around the newly started campfire a few hundred yards away looked like too much of a threat. None of them were armed with anything more dangerous than a sturdy walking stick, and all looked dirty and hungry, bracing themselves for the night’s chill as the sun sank towards the horizon. They’d set up camp beside a convenient copse of tangled evergreens, which had given them easy access to plenty of deadwood for their fire.

Brandon led the way as the patrol cautiously approached, weapons ready. At the sight of them the refugees warily came to their feet, hands held out unthreateningly to the sides. That made Deb feel even more confident that this wasn’t going to turn violent.

“No need to arrest us,” one of the men called. He had an ugly fading bruise across one cheek, as if he’d been struck hard in the face within the last few days. That tickled Deb’s memory for some reason, although she wasn’t sure why. Or maybe it was just the open indication of past violence. Still, it put her slightly on edge as he continued. “We’re just camping the night.”

“Fair enough,” Brandon called back. “But you’re too close to Aspen Hill. I need you to pack up and head north, and not stop until you’re at least a mile away.”

The men grumbled amongst themselves. “We didn’t know,” their spokesman whined. “We don’t want any trouble, we’re just trying to get by.”

Brandon shrugged. “That’s fine. Just go ahead and move on, and stay at least three miles away from town in the future.”

“How do we even know how far the place is?” another refugee cut in. “We haven’t even seen this mythical town of yours.”

Deb tensed, hefting her weapon even though it seemed impossible that the men would try anything. The patrol was more than far enough away to respond in time if the refugees charged them. So why were they being so cantankerous?

“You don’t need to know. If you’re worried about getting too close you can give us a wide berth and make things easier on both of us.” Brandon was obviously losing patience.

“Yeah but we didn’t know we were getting close,” the spokesman said, still whining. “You’re going to make us pack up after we’ve already got a fire going and everything, with sundown only a few hours away?”