Nathan Jones - Shortage

His friend looked a bit lost. “Sam’s pregnant.”

That explained why she’d looked pale earlier. No wonder his friend looked like he’d just been punched in the gut. Trev grinned. “Congratulations!”

Matt smiled, half exultant, half despairing, although when he spoke it was as if he hadn’t even heard. “She wasn’t sure whether or not to tell me, because she wasn’t sure herself. Missing a monthly cycle or two could be blamed on malnutrition and she didn’t want to get my hopes up. Or for that matter make me worry even more. She also couldn’t exactly go to a doctor, and she couldn’t find a home test to take either. But the nausea she’s been feeling for the last few days on top of all the other signs seem pretty conclusive.”

Trev scrambled out of the hole to clap his friend on the shoulder. “You’ll be a great dad.”

“Will I, though?” Matt asked, his bleak mood making a comeback. “I can’t feed my family. I’m spending all my time helping the town while the people I love go hungry. What kind of husband and father does that?” He looked almost sick. “What if I can’t even feed Sam and something goes wrong? Or what if it’s already too late after going hungry for so long and she doesn’t have the strength to carry a baby to term? She’s so tiny.”

Even though his friend looked torn apart by worry, and certainly seemed to be tearing himself apart by all the grim possibilities, Trev couldn’t help but notice that a smile kept fighting to lift the corners of his mouth, and his eyes had a new life in them. He had to wonder if Sam had broken the news now to lift his spirits.

As Matt’s friend it was his job to do what he could for that too. “Sam’s stronger than she looks,” he said, clapping his friend on the shoulder again. “And things aren’t all on your shoulders. Do what you need to for your family and the town will sort itself out. And you’re not alone, either. I’ll talk to Lewis about taking you hunting with him at the spots Jane showed him. And we’ll all be working on our crops together. Things will work out, and I’m not just saying that.”

“Yeah.” His friend finally let a smile break through. “Yeah. I’m going to be a father.”

Trev slapped him on the back. “I’ve got this. Go be with Sam.” He took out the bag of wheat he’d poured earlier. “And while you’re at the Watsons, could you give this to Chauncey for Alice without letting him know who it’s from?”

The weeks passed quickly once Trev got settled in at the shelter with his cousin and the Larsons, who quickly came to feel like family. And day after day he fell into a routine that was in many ways much more rigorous than the life they’d had at the hideout, but also more satisfying. It felt like they were living rather than just staying alive.

At first he’d been afraid that Mandy’s false accusations from the previous fall would still hang over him like a specter, and he did hear a few unpleasant snatches from the gossip circles and got some odd looks as he passed people. But either Mandy had ruined her own credibility or Trev’s service to the town spoke to his character, because no one ever challenged him on it and people treated him politely, and even with a good deal of respect.

Over time he managed to get the roadblocks into a bit more order, more through example than through leadership. It helped that he talked to Catherine about the charity and got the gossip circles doing something more useful than sitting around in the chill. There were always things to be done, clothes to be washed and mended among other chores, and if they took more energy the Mayor also had a bit more food to give out.

Those who remained at the roadblocks learned to pass their time staring out at the road, and Trev convinced them to implement brief breaks to stretch their legs that also happened to take them out beyond the roadblocks to spots where they could see a good distance and keep an eye on any approaching intruders.

There began to be more and more of those as the weather grew warmer and the refugees once again took to the road searching for a safe haven that wasn’t to be found. The Mayor held firm to her resolution to accept any newcomers into Aspen Hill, settling them in the houses of those who had died over the winter, so long as they knew that they could expect no handouts and had to be content with the opportunity to forage or hunt their own food.

Many took the deal anyway, since it was better than the violence of encountering roving bandits or being turned away with harsh words or worse at other towns they approached. It appeared that Price and Carbonville’s loudly proclaimed intention to take in all refugees and find a way to help them had devolved into turning away all comers and fiercely protecting their borders.

When he wasn’t at the roadblocks Trev was out hunting with Lewis and Matt, and sometimes Jane and Tom and his son Alvin. Trev had expected that they’d bring down any deer or maybe rabbits that they saw, but Matt and Jane’s group were all quick to target anything that moved and had meat on its bones, from the occasional squirrels to potguts to roving slat-ribbed wild dogs, of which they encountered a few. Lewis even made it a point to bring his .22 rifle to shoot the varmints, and Tom had his .22 as well when he was with them.

The deer they did manage to bring down were always cause for celebration, but it was mostly smaller game that filled the pot and kept everyone in the shelter fed. That and the emerging green plants foraged by anyone who came across anything edible, no matter how unpalatable the taste.

Their meals were taken with particular care given to Sam, who received a bit extra at everyone’s insistence in spite of her halfhearted protests. And the expecting mother valiantly fought her morning sickness to hold down valuable food they couldn’t afford to waste. It seemed to be working, too, since to everyone’s relief she looked healthier and stronger by the day.

There was one good thing that happened a couple weeks after he and his cousin returned to town, that did more to alleviate the town’s worry for long-term sources of food than the remnants of their cache had. The patrol along Aspen Hill Canyon called in to report a flock of sheep coming down from the mountains, herded by a modest sized family called the Normans that a few people in town were vaguely acquainted with. The shepherds were there asking after a chunk of their flock that had disappeared last fall, showing signs of being driven towards Aspen Hill.

Catherine personally greeted the family and admitted that the town had found the animals unattended and brought them back for food. The shepherds were only slightly mollified by promises of payment, which would be a bit difficult since the family didn’t seem too interested in precious metals.

They were , however, interested in arming themselves with proper weapons for self defense, and even more interested in the fact that Aspen Hill remained a fairly orderly and peaceful place in spite of all the chaos that winter. They’d had a few run ins with less peaceful, orderly people and were looking for a friendly town to trade with and live in part of the year when they weren’t grazing their flock.

The Norman family was eagerly accepted into the town and offered the nicest available house, and had soon settled in. They were fiercely protective of their flock against the hungry eyes of desperate townspeople, but with some haggling the Mayor was able to convince them to sell some of their older rams and ewes for meat, as well as a few that had been injured over the winter. The important thing was that they were self-sufficient and part of the community, which meant by extension that the town had at least some livestock to offer future security.