Nathan Jones - Fuel

Trev grimaced. “I’m pretty wiped out myself but I’ll do what I can.” As Lewis continued up the hill he headed back to the shelter to grab some buckets of his own. With his cousin’s secretive nature he might’ve hoped that it would take FETF a while to learn about their place, but after Mandy’s threat he had no idea how long they had to get this done so he was in a hurry.

Speaking of which, he should probably give some warning about her. As he carried two of his own wheat buckets towards the cache he met Lewis coming back the other way and followed his cousin back inside to fill him in on his confrontation with the blond refugee, then back out and they carried their buckets towards the cache together talking as they went.

Trev was even more outraged when he learned that the reason Mandy knew about the shelter was because the Larsons had sent her out to get some of his food to “keep his promise”, and had a few choice words to say about it.

“I don’t think she started out as a bad person,” Lewis offered once he’d let off some steam. “I’m sure the experience of being a refugee made her desperate enough to do what she wouldn’t otherwise do.”

Trev shook his head, hefting his pair of heavy pails and quickening his pace a bit. “That’s a reason, maybe, not an excuse. I’m sure people who’d want to kill us and steal our supplies have good reasons too.”

“It’s just an attack on your reputation, though. In the end it’s not the worst thing she could’ve done to you.”

It actually kind of annoyed him that his cousin was trying to defend Mandy. He wasn’t the one getting smeared by her lies. “We’re in a close-knit town where we have to depend on each other for our lives. Reputation can make all the difference. Also don’t forget she plans to rat me out to Ferris. She’ll probably tell him about our shelter.”

“Yeah, that’s a much bigger problem,” Lewis agreed grimly. They reached the peak of the hill and Trev got to see the fruit of his cousin’s efforts.

True to Lewis’s words Trev saw that his cousin hadn’t been carrying things for long. His effort since FETF arrived yesterday had produced a good sized, tarp-lined hole where the woodpile had been, with that entire massive stack of wood scattered everywhere to clear the space beneath. That made sense since the area around here was all sparse grass and the occasional shrub, and a cache anywhere else would be immediately noticeable. Especially one as big as the one Lewis was working on. For this one once it was filled they could move the woodpile back over to hide it.

When he’d first arrived here after being gone so long for school Trev had wondered why the woodpile was so far from their shelter, all the way on the other side of the hill. Lewis had answered that he’d needed the flat space directly in front of the shelter for driving while loading supplies, and over the hill was the next closest flat spot off the dirt road. His cousin had also mentioned that if an enemy set the wood on fire the farther it was from their front door the better, which seemed a bit paranoid to Trev.

Either way here it was, and that was good because it meant the cache would be farther away from the shelter, and possibly harder to discover since it was out of sight behind the hill.

They carefully arranged their buckets in the hole to efficiently fill the most space possible.“You did a good job with this hole,” Trev offered. “But there’s a lot of stuff in the shelter. How much can we cache?”

“Not even close to all of it, that’s for sure, but as much as we can.” Lewis grunted in annoyance as the bucket he was trying to lower into the hole tipped over and he was forced to hop in to right it. “Just remember that every bucket you take out is around a month’s worth of meals, and that’s just for the wheat at about 1400 calories per pound, which is near the lowest CPP out of all the food we’ve stored. Those are meals you’ll be glad you have this winter, or next summer, or even the winter after this one depending on how much we can save.”

Fair enough.

On the way back to the shelter Lewis paused at the top of the hill to scan the perimeter with a small pair of binoculars he carried on his belt. That reminded Trev and he told his cousin about Razor and his bandits robbing them. Not too far away from here, in fact.

“Yeah, we’ve been having trouble with them since even before Ferris showed up,” Lewis said grimly. “I’ve been keeping a close eye on the horizon, but although I’ve seen them a few times they haven’t come close enough to worry about. That might change now that FETF is disarming the town. You’re carrying your 1911, right?”

Trev shook his head. “Taken at a police roadblock.” His cousin gave him an incredulous look and he felt a surge of embarrassment. “I’ll tell you about my trip when we’ve got the time. For the moment, though, I have this.” He pulled out the revolver they’d taken from the would-be mugger.

Lewis took it and looked it over. “Model 65. Pretty nice. Needs cleaning, though.”

“You have any .357 rounds on you?” Trev asked hopefully.

His cousin shook his head. “Sorry, just .308, .45, 12 gauge, and .22. I only tried to stock up on ammo for the guns I own.” He handed it back. “We’ll have to see if we can find you some before FETF makes anything gun related disappear.”

Trev put the useless gun back in his underarm holster. “I guess I’ll carry my Mini-14 for now. Hopefully it won’t be too much of a pain while moving stuff. I don’t want to get caught with my pants down around Razor again.”

Once back in the shelter Trev retrieved his rifle and slung it securely on his back so it wouldn’t jostle or get bumped while moving buckets. Then he and his cousin got down to serious work emptying their food storage into the cache.

A couple hours later they finished filling the hole, not just with buckets but with all their ammunition and Lewis’s G3, pump action shotgun, and .22 rifle, all in waterproof containers. With his cousin wearing his 1911 that was all their firearms accounted for.

True to Lewis’s predictions the cache fit barely a third of their supplies, and his cousin looked unsatisfied as they made some final adjustments so the buckets protected the more delicate stuff in a hollow, then covered everything with a sheet of plywood that could hopefully hold the weight of all the dirt and the woodpile itself. Once Lewis was satisfied with the job they covered everything up with more tarps and arranged them so any water would be redirected around the cache. Then they filled up the hole, using proper shovels much to Trev’s relief, and got to work stacking the wood back into a pile over the disturbed earth.

They finished the job in the early afternoon and took a break sitting on the hilltop eating cold chili from cans. Lewis brought up getting started on another cache once the meal was done and they began discussing possible locations that were near enough to carry the supplies by hand or in their wagons, could be easily concealed once the cache was complete, and wouldn’t put them under the guns of Razor’s roaming thugs.

It turned out to be a moot point, because just as they were cleaning up after their meal and getting ready to get started again Trev caught sight of a distant group of people approaching from the direction of Aspen Hill.

He jostled Lewis’s shoulder, pointing, and his cousin quickly took out his binoculars to check. After a long, tense silence he saw Lewis’s shoulders visibly sag. “Looks like the FETF is sending an official party. Ferris, Turner, and half a dozen soldiers.” He suddenly stiffened. “And there’s Mandy! Guess you were right about her ratting us out.” His knuckles whitened around the small binoculars. “Unbelievable… she’s the one person who never should’ve known about this place. It’s hard to be mad at the Larsons but seriously, what were they thinking?”