Nathan Jones - Shortage

The bureaucrat’s eyes narrowed. “You are. Once the inspection is complete. Although I should inform you that we’ve had to go to half rations.”

Matt tried not to show his alarm. That was a bad sign. “Even people going through the line are already starving. This is going to make it worse.”

“And whose fault is that?” Ferris snapped. “Hoarding food while others are starving is a crime against the law as well as a decent person’s conscience. We’re trying to keep everyone alive here.”

Yeah, and making sure everyone starves in the process, just like Dad and the cousins warned at the meeting a month and a half ago , Matt thought. “Why are you talking like there’s a bunch of food out there? You’re gathering every spare scrap you can find to hand out in the ration line, so if there’s not enough that means there’s more mouths to feed than food to feed them.” Ferris just glared at him, so he continued. “If you’re satisfied we don’t have any food maybe you can let us get back to trying to survive.”

For a moment he was afraid he’d pushed the FETF administrator too far, but before Ferris could say anything one of the soldiers who’d been investigating the yard burst into the room. To Matt’s horror he was holding one of the sacks of root vegetables Sam had harvested weeks ago. “Found some food hidden beneath the gardening tools out in their shed, sir!” he said excitedly.

Sam grabbed Matt’s hand in worry as Ferris slowly turned to look at them, as well as at his parents. “So much for not having any food,” he said sarcastically.

Matt’s dad stepped forward. “We never said we didn’t,” he protested.

“No, you never said anything. You’ve got to be the most uncooperative people I’ve ever met.” Ferris looked each of them over for an uncomfortably long time, expression slowly darkening. “You might have other hidden food, so permission to go through the ration line is denied. Including the refugee staying with you, since it looks as if she’s been double dipping from the line and your hoard.” The bureaucrat motioned to the two soldiers with him and stormed out into the yard to investigate the cache in the shed.

Once they were gone Matt’s mom and dad started quietly picking up their scattered possessions.

Sam broke away from his side to join his parents in cleaning up. For a moment Matt continued to stand where he was, shaken by what had just happened. Their home invaded and trashed, their food taken, all within less than an hour. And even worse, not only did they not get access to the ration line as a consolation but Sam had been barred from it because of them.

There was nothing to be done about it, though. It was what it was. Matt stepped forward to help, but before he could begin his mom stopped him. “You were going to go out, right?” she asked gently.

He nodded. He’d been about to go searching for food when Ferris had unexpectedly shown up to finally insist they let him inspect the house. Now that they’d found the food hidden in the shed, the family’s only cache, it was all the more important he go find what he could. “Yeah. I’ll be home for dinner.”

“With dinner too, I hope,” his mom replied. She sounded equal parts woeful and shaken. “We have nothing to fall back on, now.”

He was glad even in her shaken state that she’d remembered not to talk about Trev’s cache. Or maybe in her shaken state she’d forgotten about it. Either way he couldn’t reassure her while Ferris was around, so he gathered up a few plastic grocery bags and started outside, pausing at the door to look back at his parents.

His dad’s shoulders were hunched as if the weight of the world rested on them, while his mom was plucking hopelessly at the shredded couch cushions she’d spent so long fiercely protecting from stains and misuse. They looked tired and hopeless, and older than their years.

When he came out onto the porch Ferris and his soldiers were carrying the bags of food out of the shed, what looked like a pathetically small amount in their arms, especially to make such a fuss over. With a last venomous look at him the administrator and the soldiers left the yard and started down the street to the storehouse.

Sam met him at the stairs leading down to the driveway. “Want some help?” she asked quietly, eyes filled with worry.

Matt immediately shook his head. Even with the “protection” FETF provided the town it was getting more dangerous. Even after numerous complaints about theft the refugees still had free access to walk the streets, since Ferris insisted it was a free country and they had every right to go where they pleased as long as they didn’t trespass. Trespassing he seemed happy to turn a blind eye to, and even a few break ins Matt had heard about. The would-be thieves had to be disappointed at what they found since FETF had already been through and taken anything of value.

Crime had also risen drastically, especially in the refugee camp, and Ferris seemed too busy collecting and not redistributing food to do anything about it himself. Even with whatever deal Razor and the administrator had made the gang leader had been getting bolder and bolder as Ferris continued to go easy on him. Razor still tried to keep what he did quiet, but in spite of that Matt and the other townspeople had heard stories of assaults, robberies, and much much worse among the tents.

Since Halloween Matt had slept poorly with a can of bear spray next to him, fearing some of the bolder criminals might break into the house and come after his parents or Sam. He really worried about April and her family living in another house, and had made sure they both had a few of his remaining cans of pepper spray to defend the house or if they had to go out.

No, it definitely wasn’t safe. As much as he enjoyed Sam’s company, more and more with every day, Matt had started to feel like he couldn’t protect her when she came with him. To be honest he was getting more and more worried about whether he could even protect himself.

He grit his teeth at the thought of his dad’s .30-06 being confiscated at Roadblock 1 when Ferris first arrived, and all the other weapons the townspeople had given up to FETF. He really wished Anderson had held his ground and never allowed the administrator to get away with confiscating those weapons, although it had probably been too late the moment the trucks drove into town.

The Mayor still insisted they were better off giving up their guns, since not only would they avoid violence but the refugees would be disarmed as well. That would leave the only weapons in the hands of FETF patrolling the streets keeping the peace. But even Anderson was losing conviction in his reassurances. Especially since Ferris and his thugs had become no better than looters in their “inspections”.

In fact just a few minutes ago one of Ferris’s soldiers had taken a break from tearing holes in walls when he discovered Matt’s dad’s collection of old coins, ripping the books apart to pull the coins free so he could shove them in his pocket. They had other valuables in the house, but either they were too large or weren’t quite tempting enough because Ferris had left them alone.

Matt left Sam on the porch, although not before she caught him with a quick kiss and told him to be careful. As she went inside to help his parents clean up he crossed the yard, one hand holding the empty grocery bags he desperately needed to fill, the other in his pocket clutching the can of bear spray. His decision to empty that display in the store what seemed a lifetime ago had been inspired, since the pepper spray had done more to protect him, his family, and his friends than anything else. Especially after they’d lost their firearms.

At first he moved quickly down the streets, past areas he and others had already harvested. His luck was getting worse lately as people either figured out what was edible or tried eating it anyway, and upon discovering it wasn’t killing them or making them sick kept on eating it hoping it would do some good.