Nathan Jones - Determination

Trev offered to carry the large bundle for her, more out of necessity than chivalry since he doubted she could get far with it, and was relieved when she gratefully handed them over. He half wondered if he wouldn’t have to offer her his arm as well, but she kept up as he started along the trail between the two camps.

Matt worked nonstop to build the town’s new valley refuge, from the moment he woke up at first light to the moment he collapsed in bed beside Sam just after full dark.

And he couldn’t have been happier about it. He worked beside family and friends, got to take his breaks and meals in the company of his wife and parents and other loved ones, and everything he did secured a better future for those he cared about.

Yes, the work often left him so sore that he moved like an old man getting dressed in the morning, and was usually the backbreaking sort that had put overworked men into early graves throughout much of human history. And yes, he sometimes felt quiet moments of despair when he thought about just how much there still was left to do, and how difficult things would be for a long time before they got any easier.

But he was back in the community, with family. He didn’t have to start awake at any loud noise, fearing it was the prelude to an attack. He didn’t have to face enemies who wanted to kill him, and grieve at being unable to save those they did kill. He had the luxury of looking to the future, rather than facing the immediate grinding weight of imminent extermination. He didn’t have to look out every day at an endless expanse of enemies in the valley below, with the knowledge that today could be the day they came for him.

Sure, much of that peace of mind was an illusion, a threat that was out of sight, out of mind. And he always had to carry the silent guilt that he’d left his friends to face it without him. But even so it was hard not to cherish the chance to hold his wife in his arms, to feel his child kick beneath his hand, to watch his nephews run and play or help however they were able.

Although that was another burden. When Faraday learned that Aspen Hill’s doctor had experience treating wounds and performing surgeries, even amputations, he’d requested Terry come join the military where he could do far more good. Matt’s brother-in-law had reluctantly agreed, leaving his wife and children in the care of Matt and their dad.

So perhaps that wasn’t a burden, since Matt being at the valley refuge had freed someone who could do more good for the war to go and help out. In the meantime April and Sam were doing their best to take over for Terry, treating any illnesses or injuries the townspeople came to them with as best they could. Their work could be distressing, but for the most part it was also fairly light. Which for their sake Matt was grateful for.

His own was anything but, since his main job was seeing to housing for hundreds of people.

Most of the town was resorting to stick-and-mud houses for shelter. Specifically a shallow hole up to four feet deep with a short ramp leading down into it, covered by a dome framework of sticks bound together with strips of bark or any rope, wire, or cable to be found. For the final touches it was lined with tarp on the inside then plastered with mud, with a trench dug around it for drainage.

For the door many made do with a tarp or blanket, although eventually most of those took the time to create another framework of sticks plastered in mud to cover the ramp, which could be lifted aside completely to enter or leave.

A few families actually wanted the houses built around their tents, so they’d get the benefit of sleeping in a tent but with enough insulation for the coming cold. Not the worst idea, if slightly impractical, but most preferred to have a log support pole holding up the center of the dome for extra stability. When winter came the snows would pile up on the structure, on the bright side adding extra insulation, but nobody wanted to risk having their roof collapse on them under the weight of it.

The structures were crude, cramped, and uncomfortable, but they had the benefit of being fairly quick to build, without the need for many tools. Those tools were available, although not as many as the town needed, and the hands to wield them could also be found, if with more difficulty. What the valley refuge lacked was time.

People needed shelter now, and even with everyone working together log houses couldn’t be built quickly. That wasn’t even taking into consideration giving the lumber time to season, which was ideal. Every scrap of deadfall within a mile had already been gathered, either for firewood or for construction, and a lot of the trees the men were harvesting, as quickly as they could bring them down, were intended for firewood.

In fact there was a constant debate over whether the wood would be more valuable for shelter or to feed the fires. Some argued that the stick-and-mud shelters were actually warmer than log cabins, even with the best chinking, and the smaller space made them easier to heat. On the other side the argument was that fireplaces and chimneys could be built in log cabins, to which the rebuttal was that nobody was stopping anyone from building those in a stick-and-mud structure, either.

Ultimately the three biggest differences between the two were in effort, appearance, and security. The stick-and-mud shelters were easy and functional, but they looked like they’d been built in the Stone Age and anyone could kick their way in with little effort. The log cabins were more difficult to build but also functional, and they looked more like a proper home and a would-be attacker would have a harder time getting inside.

All arguments aside, those who did have the tools and manpower to build a cabin usually built one. And the log cabins Matt and his semi-retired defenders were building nonstop, and still far too slowly, were always filled beyond capacity as soon as they were completed. Usually even before then. Matt had started out the work building stick-and-mud structures. But since most families could handle building those on their own, and many were even without prompting, he’d put his men to work on more specialized and labor intensive construction instead.

Vital as building houses was, however, finding food had to take first priority for his defenders. Hunting, trapping, and gathering were tasks everyone in the valley refuge helped with where they could, and the town’s animals were jealously guarded for their future value while hungrily eyed for their meat.

They had a few windfalls there. First of all Jim and Alvin had shown true enterprising spirit, going out and scouring every single wood copse and other potential spot looking for wild beehives. After days of searching they’d found two, which combined with the original one Lewis and Jane had found promised a good store of honey.

On Lucas’s recommendation the two young men had smoked the hives, hacked them open, then taken every single bit of honeycomb they could find. Matt was a bit sad to hear it, since harvesting like that would almost certainly kill the hives, but the town’s immediate need was greater than the future benefit of multiple smaller harvests.

Besides, they still had Lewis and Trev’s captured hive to cultivate. Not to mention that where three hives could be found, more were out there. Ones that ideally they’d harvest more sustainably, once the town’s circumstances had stabilized.

An even more unexpected windfall came from a group of hunters traveling a far ways down the valley’s stream, when they stumbled across a small herd of goats. The animals obviously weren’t native to the area and had probably been livestock, but how they’d escaped and ended up in the valley without being hunted or captured was anyone’s guess. Lucas seemed to think that the animals, being natural escape artists, had gotten free of their pen after something happened to their owners, then wandered away into the mountains.