Nathan Jones - Shortage

There was silence among the refugees. “It’s not a perfect offer or a perfect solution,” the new Mayor said, still calm but rushing her words slightly due to the lukewarm reception. “But nothing about this situation is perfect and it’s the best we can do. We’ll give you the tools to feed yourselves if you’re able, and be right there beside you working to feed ourselves as well. It’s time for us to stop fighting and cooperate or none of us will survive the winter.”

The silence stretched on, as if trying to crush the older woman with its weight. But it looked as if the refugees were at least thinking it over.

While they were doing that Scott stepped up on the table beside his wife. “The town has a few conditions,” he called. “Fair ones. First of all we want you to give up anyone who was involved in today’s attack on the town, planning or carrying it out. However you may feel about us “townies” or your situation in the camp, that attack was unprovoked and the men involved committed heinous atrocities, including against innocent women. We want those who can be positively identified brought to justice.”

“They were just trying to get us our fair share from the storehouse!” one refugee protested.

Scott turned a hard eye on the woman. “They killed 14 of us, looted our houses, and violated three women. If you don’t give Razor’s people up our offer is off the table, and we’ll even go a step further. Since we won’t know for sure who among you attacked us we’ll have no choice but to drive you all out of camp and far away from Aspen Hill, then do whatever’s necessary to make sure you don’t come back.”

“You think me and other women in camp haven’t been violated?” the same refugee shouted. “You think there weren’t murders among the tents? You didn’t do anything when it was happening to us, but suddenly when your own are affected it becomes a problem you have to do something about?”

Catherine put a hand on her husband’s arm before he could answer. “Administrator Ferris is the one who let the situation in camp get so out of hand,” she said firmly. “He took control of the town and put Officer Turner under his direct command. He confiscated our firearms so we couldn’t have intervened even if we’d dared to go against his directives, and then he ignored everything that happened to you because Razor kept the camp quiet and that’s all he cared about. Yes, it’s horrible, and yes, it’s not fair, but don’t try to pin your problems on us.”

She paused, then continued. “In fact you should be thanking us, because now Razor’s dead and Ferris is gone and we’re in a position to punish those responsible for everything that’s been happening to you and stop them from committing any further depravities. So give up the rest of the thugs who’ve been terrorizing you, come into town and spend the winter in warm houses, and let’s put the bitterness and hatred behind us.”

Scott held up his hands again. “With two more conditions. First, the town guarantees everyone the right to their own property. There’ll be no more gathering up and distributing food or anything else. To add to that anyone caught stealing will be exiled, no matter the circumstances, and if they try to return they’ll be turned away. That goes for refugees and townies alike. Secondly the violence stops. Now. Anyone caught disturbing the peace will also be exiled or, if their crime is severe enough, executed. Land and order is returning to Aspen Hill.”

“The choice is yours,” Catherine continued as her husband fell silent. “Come into town, head to Price or some other place where you might have better options, or even stay in the camp if you wish. But as of this moment the camp is also part of Aspen Hill, subject to our laws, and anyone caught breaking them will receive the same punishment.”

She looked around at the crowd of refugees, hundreds in all, and her voice became firm. “Now. We want Razor’s people, or any information you have on them.”

Hundreds of refugees took to the road to head for Price, distrustful of the offer to join the town right after it had come under attack by people from their camp. The rest, 338 people in all, were invited in, and Catherine managed to find enough families to double up to make room in houses for all of them. That included the Watts’s house, as April and Terry and their boys moved back into the Larsons’ house.

Not a single one of Razor’s accomplices was turned in. The remaining refugees insisted that everyone in the gang had taken part in the attack and none had returned to camp afterwards. Others who might have known about the attack fled with the group going to Price. Catherine wasn’t too happy about that, but under the circumstances decided it wasn’t worth pursuing the matter.

Most of the women Razor had kept in his employ, not all entirely willingly, had also headed south to Price, but a few were welcomed into Aspen Hill. They were happy to give detailed descriptions of everyone in Razor’s gang, identifying the bodies of those who’d died attacking the town and giving the names and faces of those who’d escaped. That included some 27 men, including one of Razor’s top men named Simons. Catherine made sure the descriptions were ready to be passed around when the patrols started up again that evening.

Things had just begun to be sorted out and the storehouse was still a busy hub of activity as volunteers from the town and even a few from among the refugees were directed in everything that needed doing. Matt would’ve liked to help, but Terry insisted he stay off his leg as much as possible or he’d tear open the sutures. Lacking antibiotics there was also the possibility the wound would become infected, especially considering its source, and he needed to rest and keep his strength in case he became feverish.

So Matt sought Catherine out to excuse himself and head home with his mom and nephews. Terry, April, and Sam were going to stick around to continue to help as much as they could, and Matt hoped they stayed safe.

Before reaching the new Mayor he was intercepted by one of the refugees, an older man who’d done most of the speaking for his people. “Matt Larson?” he asked stiffly. “The man who killed Razor?”

Matt nodded, a bit wary. “That’s right.”

The refugee abruptly held out his hand. “Ben Thompson. On behalf of the camp I wanted you to know how grateful we are for ridding us of that parasite.”

That was a bit of a surprise. Matt had assumed the refugees looked up to Razor as their leader. “Do you speak for the refugees now?”

Ben snorted. “Now? I’ve always spoken for them.” At Matt’s confused look he motioned irritably in the direction of the camp. “We all did what Razor said or we faced the consequences, but it was me everyone came to for help. I did what I could without getting myself killed.” As he spoke those last words he rubbed absently at a faded bruise on his cheek.

Matt felt a bit bad that he’d avoided learning anything about the refugee camp, probably to avoid feeling guilty about not doing anything to help them. He hadn’t realized anyone but Razor was looked to as a leader there, although he supposed the decent people who’d endured the rule of Razor’s gang would have their own opinions on things.

A slightly uncomfortable silence settled. The attack was too new and feelings were too raw to share pleasantries, and while Matt had nothing against Ben he still felt a bit wary of the refugee. For the older man’s part he seemed to be holding back resentment. Matt supposed prejudices that had been building up for over a month wouldn’t disappear overnight.

“Do you think your people will be able to get along?” Matt asked, then immediately regretted his choice of words.