Nathan Jones - Fuel

Unfortunately she seemed to be right on that count. “Just what “truth” are you telling them, specifically?”

“That I’m the victim of a predatory monster who offered me food and shelter in return for being his virtual sex slave. Thanks to that I’m offered sympathy instead of resentment, and even the people I’m a burden on like the Larsons get mad at you instead of me.” She curled her lip in contempt. “I don’t regret doing what I had to do to survive.”

Even after hearing her admit it outright Trev still found it hard to believe she’d actually done what she claimed. It was all he could do to control his rage as he considered the implications. “You’re going to go back to the refugees,” he said through clenched teeth. “And I don’t want to see you near me or any of my friends.”

The woman gave him a look with such venom that even after everything Trev was still shocked by it. “No, you’re going to take me to this shelter of yours where I’ll be your guest for as long as I want, no strings attached. Otherwise I’ll go to FETF about how you’ve exploited me. Even with everything that’s happened soliciting prostitution is still illegal in the United States of America.”

Trev couldn’t believe Mandy’s gall, but everything else flew out the window as his mind snagged on one word. “FETF? What are you talking about?”

She laughed. “They sent an administrator to take over Aspen Hill yesterday, along with a dozen soldiers to make sure the town does what he says. All you greedy townies refusing food to starving people are about to get your comeuppance.”

All thoughts of Mandy and her attempts at character assassination immediately faded to the background as the implications of this set in. “You do what you want,” he said. Without waiting for a response he turned and sprinted towards the shelter.

Behind him Mandy laughed mockingly. “I will! No matter what happens in this world people are people, and people will always rush to the aid of a damsel in distress. You really shouldn’t have crossed me.”

You mean I really shouldn’t have helped you? But Trev was already out of earshot and didn’t care enough to reply. He had more important things to worry about than Amanda Townsend: for good or evil he was done with her, and he hoped he never had to see her again.

But somehow, deep down, he had a feeling that he was only at the beginning of the trouble her lies would cause. Even after he’d helped her she seemed determined to do everything she could to ruin his life, and if enough people believed her she’d probably succeed.

When Trev arrived at the shelter he found Lewis hauling two buckets out the door, and was relieved that his cousin had realized the implications of FETF’s arrival too.

“I hope you’re doing what I think you’re doing,” he said, hurrying to kick a rock out of his cousin’s path. If Lewis was relieved or even surprised to see him he didn’t show it, so urgent in his task that he barely paused to nod Trev’s way. He seemed to be heading directly east towards the second, higher hill that partially hid their buried shed. Beyond it was a fairly mild stretch of low hills to where the foothills began, then the mountains of the Manti-La Sal range beyond them.

Lewis grimaced, setting down the buckets and rotating his shoulders. He looked as if he’d been at work for a while. At that point finally he paused to grab Trev’s shoulder and pull him into a quick hug. “Glad to see you made it back safely, even if you stink even worse than before.”

His cousin motioned to the buckets as he continued. “And if what you think I’m doing is caching our stuff then yes, I am. FETF is in town. It’s only a matter of time before they bring “aid” to the area by rounding up any extra food to redistribute to the refugees. We need to hide as much of this as we can before they come around trying to get their hands on it. Our guns, too.” He quickly filled Trev in on Ferris’s arrival, tearing down the roadblocks, dismantling the town’s defenses, and taking over the storehouse.

When he was done Trev nodded grimly. “April’s family got a firsthand look at how they operate up in Midvale, so I’m not surprised they’re doing the same here.” He grimaced, glancing towards town. “I was hoping Aspen Hill would refuse to let them in. We’ve already voted to turn away refugees, after all, so FETF has no business here. But it looks like as soon as the first petty bureaucrat showed up everyone changed their minds.”

“They did more than change their minds, they bent over backwards.” Lewis also glared towards town, as if he could see Ferris taking over the storehouse across the mile and a half of distance. “The townspeople are sheep. They don’t care that Washington DC burned. They don’t care that the Federal government is at best in exile, at worst struggling to keep from imploding. They don’t care that the nation is on the rocks and we’re on our own and nobody is coming to save us.”

His cousin took a deep breath. “When Ferris came they didn’t see a “petty bureaucrat” with two trucks and a dozen soldiers. They saw an extension of the vast and infinitely powerful Federal government that doesn’t exist anymore. In their minds he’s the lifeline to the help that’s going to solve everyone’s problems. So if Ferris tells them to give up all their food so it can be redistributed to refugees they’ll do it, expecting that more FETF trucks full of food will be coming in the future.”

“And they won’t,” Trev said, but in spite of his experience with the FETF up north there was the slightest question in his voice.

Lewis had been leaning down to pick up his buckets again, but at that he paused to stare at him. “You’ve still got the barest flicker of hope about that?” He took a breath, then lowered his voice even though nobody could hear them. “Trev, it’s on the radio. More FETF help isn’t going to be coming from up north because the FETF doesn’t exist up there anymore. The Antelope Island refugee camp rioted after a food shortage led to rations being severely cut.”

Trev stiffened in shock. “Antelope Island? I was just there!”

“Then you’re lucky you left. Thousands of refugees went on a violent rampage. The fuel, food, and munitions depots were all seized, FETF soldiers ran for their lives before their own weapons could be turned against them, and over a hundred thousand people flooded back out into the ruins of Salt Lake City. The area has erupted into chaos again, and this time I don’t think anything’s going to stop it.” His cousin finally picked up the buckets and started for the hill again.

After a few moments standing stunned at the news Trev hurried to follow. “Does anyone in Aspen Hill know?”

His cousin shrugged slightly, not pausing. “They’ve got their radio. But even knowing it won’t matter to them because they can’t put two and two together. Ferris is Federal, which means he’s authority, and even if now he’s as much a refugee as anyone and his authority extends exactly as far as the fuel in his trucks can take him everyone will still mindlessly obey his orders. Because that’s what people do.”

A long, uncomfortable silence settled, and then Trev took a deep breath. “Okay, what do you need me to do?”

“Help me move things.” Lewis pointed up the hill with his shoulder. “I’ve finally got the woodpile moved and the cache hole dug where it was. Took me most of yesterday with this rocky soil, and by the time I had it big enough I was too exhausted to start moving buckets. I’ve been hard at work all morning but it’s taking me longer than I expected. Hauling a hundred pounds more than a hundred yards, a good chunk of it uphill, is a lot different than walking for hours. My muscles just aren’t used to it.”