Nathan Jones - Shortage

Unfortunately because of the poor conditions sickness had broken out in the camp. The local and FETF doctors had identified it as some type of flu, but whether it was a mild strain preying on the already weakened people in camp or a more virulent strain that had been brought by some group of refugees or possibly even the relief convoy itself, no one could say.

What couldn’t be denied was that dozens of people had already succumbed to the flu and it had spread to hundreds of people. All efforts at containment had failed, and was probably impossible now because many people were fleeing the camp to escape before falling ill themselves, some inadvertently spreading the virus with them.

Price had closed off the town as best they could, forbidding refugees or even FETF coordinators and soldiers from entering. Thus far the flu hadn’t spread to them, but it was anyone’s guess whether things would stay that way.

What concerned Matt was that some of the infected might find their way up to Aspen Hill. Surprisingly, considering all the refugees’ bitter complaints and maligning of “townies” when they’d been on the other side of the situation, now that they were part of the town they seemed happy to get behind the idea of closing the borders.

Only the new Mayor wasn’t having any of it. She insisted that any refugees who agreed to keep the peace and fend for themselves were welcome, same as the refugees in the camp had been. More mouths to feed would mean more deaths when everyone was struggling to feed themselves, but she’d staunchly held to the position that if any incoming refugees wanted to make a go of it they could. As long as they were willing to accept that no help was coming for them and they had to take responsibility for their own survival, and breaking the rules meant being turned out in the cold.

Catherine was holding to her ironclad stance on protecting each individual’s personal property from theft, either from other individuals or from the town itself. Some of the refugees hadn’t been quite as enthusiastic about getting behind that resolution, oddly enough. But she’d made good on her threat to exile anyone caught stealing, making sure the patrols and people manning the roadblocks knew the faces and names of those who were now longer welcome in town, and after the first few days thefts had gone down quite a bit. Mandy was one of the many exiled in the first few days, but as time passed fewer and fewer thefts had been reported.

He supposed it helped that nobody really had anything to steal.

Catherine had managed to convince everyone of her point of view about open borders, so even though the patrols were back in rotation they were there to protect against attack, not turn anyone away. Only now, with this news of flu, maybe they’d have to change that stance after all. Matt’s duty was to protect the town, and while you couldn’t shoot a virus you could certainly keep it from getting anywhere close.

He’d have to argue that point with the Mayor, but until then he’d also need to warn everyone on the roster about the danger of coming too close to possibly infected refugees, and advise them to keep anyone coming from the south or east away from town.

Terry finished removing the last of the sutures, then probed the forming scar thoughtfully with his fingers to check for signs of deep seated infection. Last of all he swabbed the entire area with rubbing alcohol and wrapped it in a clean bandage. “You’re sure you want to go walking around on it so soon?” his brother-in-law asked as he stood.

Matt stood as well, ignoring the twinge. “I accepted the job to protect the town. It’s about time I started doing it.” He turned to Rick. “You’ve been on the western patrol route, right?” The younger man nodded. “Think they can spare you here so you can take me along it?”

“Sure,” Rick said, looking eager at the chance to get out. “Let’s grab a radio so we can let Pete and Evan know we’ll be crashing their party so they don’t accidentally shoot us.”

Young as he was Pete Childress had proven a good man on patrols ever since he’d joined the Watson brothers helping Lewis and Trev on the northern border way at the beginning. He was careful and methodical about searching for anything out of the ordinary, diligent about checking in on the radio, and seemed nearly tireless. Evan, a refugee with a wife and son, Matt didn’t know as much about.

Hopefully he’d get a chance to get to know all the new faces, townspeople and refugee alike. Matt followed Rick over to where the radios were charging. “How’s the power holding up?” he asked.

Chauncey, seated behind the checkout counter listening on the radio with his shotgun propped under the counter, answered for his son. “Great. Lewis’s solar panels are top notch, and he took good care of them. He had an efficient system going with them too, complete with batteries, so it’s a good thing Ferris ripped it out whole to install in here.”

He held out a radio and Matt clipped it to his belt, noticing as he did that there weren’t many to spare: the town was using almost all of them for patrols, roadblocks, and to coordinate with the Mayor’s office at town hall. That could be a problem if the equipment started to break. He’d have to make sure everyone using the radios knew to be careful and practice proper maintenance.

Speaking of which… Matt made his way to the store’s back room, where he found Scott going over the town’s array of firearms and ammunition. “Oh hey, I was just coming to ask you how the town’s stock of weapons is holding up.”

The older man turned to him. “I’m glad you did, because I’ve actually been wanting to talk to you about it.” He patted the table. “Ferris kept these all in good shape while he had them under lock and key, but since the town’s started up the patrols again I’ve noticed firearms coming back with dings and scuffs. One refugee even turned in a rifle with the bore caked with dirt, like he’d shoved it into the ground muzzle-first or something.”

Matt frowned. “I’ll put it in the announcements.”

“Good, because these weapons might be all we’ve got and we have to make them last. I can do minor adjustments and small repairs, and I’ve got a modest stock of replacement parts, but I’d feel a lot happier if your guys weren’t tossing them around or using them as walking sticks or whatever they’ve been doing.”

“I’ll make sure they treat them like their firstborn,” Matt promised. He checked out a scoped .308 assault rifle and a spare magazine, slinging the weapon over his shoulder as he led Rick out of the store.

“Back to patrols,” he told the younger man with a slight smile. “It’s been a while.”

It had been, although Matt had done enough walking while searching for food to keep in reasonably good shape. Weakness from hunger was more of a problem, even with the modest portions of meat Catherine was giving his family. That and his leg.

Still, it felt nice to be out and about after staying off his feet over the last week. Matt just wished he didn’t have so many worries pressing his mind to keep him from really enjoying it. The air was warm, with enough of a bite from the breeze to hint at winter being just around the corner. That was no surprise, since the weather tended to be nice like this around Aspen Hill during Thanksgiving week. It served as a reminder that tomorrow was Thanksgiving.

They wouldn’t have any feast to look forward to, unfortunately, but it was nice to remember that there were things to celebrate. He only wished his dad making it home safely was one of them: Matt had a good reason to be out here checking the patrol routes, but a small part of him had to admit that he was secretly hoping to see his dad towing a wagon along the myriad of dirt roads criss-crossing the hills around him.