by Nathan Jones
“I just want to say a last goodbye to Lewis,” the redheaded woman abruptly said as the men ran off to complete the task. Without another word she turned and headed for where her husband lay in the cart.
In the slightly uncomfortable silence that followed Matt turned to her other volunteers. “This is probably a good chance for you to say your goodbyes too,” he told them. “Just don't take too long.” The crowd nodded and dispersed.
Matt took the opportunity to catch up to Jane, handing her the radio Davis had given him. “Believe me, it's come in handy for me and it should for you, too.”
His friend immediately stuck it in her pocket and put on the noise canceling earbuds, talking as she worked. “Thanks. It'll probably be less awkward for me if I'm delivering orders by radio.”
Matt remembered Catherine saying Jane had worries about leading. He cleared his throat awkwardly. “You're going to do a great job.”
She gave him an impatient look. “I doubt it, but I'll do the best job I can. Lewis really should've picked someone else to take charge, though. This feels like nepotism.”
He couldn't help it, he chuckled. “You may not be the most social person out there, Jane, but believe me: you're probably the only one who thinks you're not qualified to lead.”
Jane hesitated, looking up at him with clear blue eyes. “As long as it just involves making sure my people get what they need and are where they need to be, maybe,” she replied. “I'm not going to be giving any rousing speeches or rallying the troops, though.”
She sped up a bit, clearly done with the conversation, and Matt let her go say her goodbyes to her husband. They didn't take long, and within just a few minutes she was back gathering her volunteers and chivvying them to get on the road.
As the group made their final preparations to leave Matt gave the redheaded woman a few last tips on what she could expect to the south, both with the blockheads and with the volunteers already there, as well as with Davis and Harmon. She listened attentively, but even so he did his best to keep the instructions brief and pertinent.
Then Jane and her volunteers were ready to go. The town's preparations to move slowed to a halt as the group set off down the road, a crowd of friends and families gathered to bid them farewell. Lewis's mom and sister were there waving to Jane, and Matt joined them in waving until she and the others were out of sight.
At which point Matt got everyone back on task packing up camp. First off he put the remaining defenders to work where they were needed, as well as assigning them to hauling wagons and carts. There was a bit of grumbling from some but everyone pitched in, and within the next hour the town in exile had started on its way to their new home.
Matt's dad joined him pulling the cart, although he looked sad. “Every step takes us even farther from Aspen Hill,” he said.
“Two miles or twenty, it hardly matters as long as the blockheads are occupying it,” Lewis said. “And two or twenty, once they leave we can go back.”
“Maybe,” Matt's dad replied, glancing over his shoulder at the two men in the cart. “Or maybe they'll burn it to the ground, or this war will go on for years. We might not see it again for a while, or there'll be nothing left to return to.”
Matt's mom spoke up reprovingly from beside the cart, where she was carrying Paul and leading Aaron by the hand. “Home is wherever we all are. Whatever the future may hold, for now we'll make this valley our home.”
The day dragged on with the drudgery of pulling their burdens, everyone moving at a snail's pace along the road. Sometimes vehicles passed going one direction or the other, and even a unit of soldiers on foot headed for the military camp. Nobody had an easy time of the trip, but working together they kept moving without anyone straggling behind.
When they stopped for lunch Matt went around seeing how everyone was doing. He was tired enough that he wanted to just collapse somewhere and enjoy his meager meal with his family, but he couldn't shirk his responsibilities.
To his surprise there was less complaining than he'd expected. The townspeople were tired, but at the same time they were glad to be on the road. There'd been a lot of fear at the refuge, with blockheads a stone's throw away and only the massively outnumbered and outgunned defenders holding them back. The idea of going to a place where the reality of war was far removed appealed to his neighbors.
It wasn't far as the truck drove, but even on bicycle it took a while to reach and everyone considered it a safe distance away. Matt had to admit the move appealed to him as well, and if anything he considered it past due. It offered a more permanent place to settle in and really begin concentrating on preparing for the winter, and was close enough to Huntington Creek along 31 (albeit probably wanting to give the refugee camps a wide berth), that fishing, hunting, trapping, and gathering trips were realistic.
Much as he hated to do it, he called everyone back onto the road after only a brief lunch. They still had a long ways to go, and their pace hadn't been reassuring.
He ended up working with Tam to get the line of people moving again, and awkwardly felt his way around a conversation with her. The auburn-haired woman asked how Lewis was doing, and admitted she didn't blame him for losing her husband. But she also said she didn't think she could talk to him, at least not for a while. Matt supposed he couldn't blame her for that, and left her and her family to their place in the line while he returned to the cart. The shelter group was one of the first to get going, so they led the line setting the pace.
It took some doing, but with cooperation and determination most of the townspeople reached the valley that day, although for many it was hours after nightfall. The long line of hundreds of weary men, women, and children continued filing in as those who'd arrived struggled to create temporary accommodations for the night. Those that didn't decide to just drop where they were and sleep under the stars, huddled together for warmth. Around fires if they were lucky. Very, very few among them found the time or energy to attempt to build shelters for others, although Matt did what he could.
The few stragglers that couldn't manage to make it the entire way all camped together with a few defenders to protect them, a mile or east along the road. It didn't seem so far to go, but exhausted and hauling burdens Matt couldn't blame them for deciding to finish in the morning.
As for him, all aches and discomforts aside he got to collapse into bed with Sam huddled against him, and that was better than a hotel. She seemed to feel the same, although in her condition the walk had been hard.
There was no conversation tonight; both were asleep within minutes.
Chapter Thirteen
Aid
“Are you going to be okay doing this, son?” his dad said quietly.
Lewis tried to nod, but the motion made his head spin so he stopped. He hoped he was going to be okay. “I'll tough it out. I'm more worried about how you'll manage with your broken leg. It was my fault, after all.”
His dad straightened slightly in his lawn chair, awkwardly adjusting the leg in its cast. “That wasn't on you. What happened, happened. No use making it worse by trying to find someone to blame.”
Lewis glanced towards the soldiers still talking with the Mayor. It looked like he still had a bit of time to say a proper goodbye. If he could figure out what to say.
It had only been five days since the disaster in the canyon, and Terry hadn't been joking about how long it would take Lewis to recover. But opportunity didn't always fit any ideal timing; about fifteen minutes ago, just after noon, a truck from the military camp had stopped in the valley, a delegation hiking out to visit the town's new camp.
The residents of Aspen Hill had built their new home a few hundred yards off the road, well out of the way in an effort to avoid disturbances. The soldiers hadn't intended any disturbance, they'd just come at Faraday's behest to make sure everyone had made it safely, and that the town's building efforts were going well.
They also asked if there was anything the town needed, and while they couldn't guaran
tee anything they promised to at least see what they could do. Small surprise they were so solicitous, when a lot of what Aspen Hill had “donated” had gone to their camp.
More importantly, though, the soldiers had announced that they were headed south on 31 to rotate troops from Davis's squads. Lewis had jumped at the opportunity to get down there without having to walk, even if he wasn't really fit to travel, and a handful of other defenders had decided to join him.
Terry had thrown a fit when he found out. But when Lewis mentioned hiking the dozens of miles in another few days, and probably not fully recovered even then, his friend had grudgingly admitted that the early ride was probably worth the strain.
Still, he'd looked a bit smug when Lewis had needed help even leaving his tent. The defenders who'd be coming along with him had practically needed to carry him, and his gear, over for his goodbyes to his family, since he couldn't go three steps without staggering like he was falling down drunk. He couldn't even stay upright for more than a few seconds without falling over, and had to be propped up in another camp chair next to his dad.
Since his head swam even when lying down, sitting up straight his head was a tsunami. Not to mention the dull throb that was always in the background had become the world's biggest bass drum.
Going south to join Jane and Trev was still worth it. If he was going to be useless in recovery, he'd rather do it near his wife. Besides, since the blockheads had successfully pushed Erikson out of the Wasatch Mountains they'd eased up on their attacks, regrouping and feeling out the US military remnants' new boundaries and defenses.
He doubted there'd be trouble for another little while, which would give him time to finish his recovery. And he'd be in good company there; Rick and Mason were still recovering, but they'd also moved back to the camp to be with the other Aspen Hill volunteers. Maybe they could organize some card games.
His dad was waiting patiently for him to collect his thoughts. Lewis had already said brief goodbyes to the shelter group, and more extensive ones to the Smiths and his mom and sister. Which just left this one with his dad. Although he didn't have all the time in the world, since the soldiers would be on a schedule.
So he sucked in a breath and got on with it. “This may sound silly, but growing up I always figured adults got something when they reached a certain age. You were all so confident, so in control. You always seemed to have the answers, and you seemed able to solve problems I could barely even understand.”
“I'm surprised to hear you say that,” his dad said with a chuckle. “You were always the most mature kid I knew. You acted more like an adult than a lot of my friends.”
Lewis shook his head. “I always figured that at a certain age something would change that'd make me different, so I could act the way I saw you act. I'd stop being scared of things, stop doubting myself. Things would suddenly click and everything would stop being so hard. Even after I moved out, built the shelter, and started living my own life, I kept wondering when that would hit for me.”
He looked up to see his dad nodding in sympathy. “Responsibility,” he said quietly. “That's the main difference between a child and an adult. You don't lose your fears and doubts, you just realize that ultimately you're the only one who can or will solve your problems. And if you've got people depending on you then you've got to offer them that same reassurance. You've got to act confident, in control, even when you're at the breaking point. I figure as a leader you've learned that lesson better than most.”
Lewis glanced over at the rest of his family, who were talking quietly a short distance away. “And if that confidence gets people killed?” he asked in a low voice.
His dad took a while to answer. “I figured you'd already worked that out for yourself, after everything that's happened to you.”
He shrugged. “I'm not sure that's something you ever work out.”
“Probably not.” His dad reached over and patted his shoulder. “Things go wrong. Can't do much about it other than learn from your mistakes and keep going.”
Lewis wasn't sure how helpful that answer was. Then again, there probably wasn't a helpful answer available. He probably shouldn't have brought it up. “I always wondered why you never took over for me after you guys got here.”
To his surprise his dad laughed. “You were doing just fine, son. Your leadership saved lives, and it'll save more lives. Besides, with what you've been through the last year I'd say you're twice as grown up as I was at your age. Heck, even kids like Alvin and Jim are. We've suffered hardships, but I'd like to think they've made us stronger.”
The hand on his shoulder squeezed briefly, and then his dad leaned back. “We'll be fine here while you're gone. You just take care of everyone down there. And look out for Trev; he's had his own reasons to doubt his leadership after losing Tom and the others, and he was never quite as rational as you.”
“I've got to admit, it'll be good to see him again.” Lewis waved over at the defenders, who'd been standing with the shelter group waiting. They came over and helped him out of the chair, and two draped his arms over their shoulders while another picked up his pack, handling its weight along with his own.
They started over to where Catherine and the soldiers waited, along with a modest group of loved ones and neighbors there to wish them well as they set out. Lewis couldn't help but notice that from the Mayor's family only Catherine herself was there. With a pang he saw how haggard she looked, worn down with the burden of her duties to the town as well as her grief and worry. Scott coming home had helped, but things had still been hard for her since Carl's death.
When he reached her he offered his hand, but Catherine ignored it and pulled him into an awkward hug around the two men propping him up. “Be safe, all of you, and pass that message on to everyone with Davis, too. We've lost enough people already.”
He couldn't really return the hug. “Are you going to be okay?” he asked, hoping he wasn't overstepping.
The Mayor pulled away, with effort managing to compose herself. “We'll manage. It'll be a comfort to know you're out here keeping the blockheads far away from us, and we'll stay in contact with radio relays like we have been.” She did her best to smile. “And if we find any more hives out here we'll send some honey your way as a treat.”
“That'll be something to look forward to.” Lewis and the others offered a few final goodbyes to the gathered crowd, then followed the soldiers the few hundred yards back to the truck parked off the side of the road. Even with help, that short trip was excruciating.
Aware of his condition, the men in uniform generously offered him the window seat in the cab. The drive south didn't take long at all, but with the discomfort he was in it couldn't be over fast enough. Especially with the way he braced himself in his seat to avoid jostling, which steadily tired him out.
Lewis occupied the time by talking to the driver and middle passenger, who'd both served under Erikson along the Wasatch Front. Both men had participated in the brutal fighting against the Chinese, and had been part of the rearguard for the General's nightmarish retreat with the civilian refugees.
Neither one seemed particularly interested in going into detail about their experiences, and Lewis had the impression that they'd been transferred to lighter duty well away from the front for a good reason. To give them time to recover from what they'd gone through.
As the truck pulled up to Davis's camp, Lewis noted that it looked way different from when he'd seen it last. He'd heard that the sergeant had opted to move it up onto the south slope in the canyon after the helicopter attack, and had approved the decision, but it was still a shock to see.
It also wasn't all that well hidden. Maybe from overhead it was more obscured, but from down on the road it was obvious that most of the tents had been set up in clearings, which sort of defeated the purpose. Also a lot of stuff had been cleared away to make room, even some of the trees, which didn't help.
The soldiers left him and his defenders to find their own way in th
e camp, while they headed up to the command tent to talk to Sergeant Harmon. Lewis wanted to talk to the man too at some point, but at the moment he would be more than happy to just get to the Aspen Hill camp. The hike up over the ridge and back down to where it was on the southern slope was going to be brutal.
Halfway through the camp, picking their painstaking way up the slope, a sharp whistle stopped them. Lewis and the others turned to see Raul Gutierrez, accompanied by a couple of familiar faces from the defenders who'd come down with Jane, emerging from what he assumed was the mess tent. They were carrying pots of food, and he guessed they were picking up lunch for their squad.
The former soldier clapped him on the shoulder and shook hands with the other defenders. “Welcome to the war zone. Although I've heard you guys have been tearing things up around Aspen Hill, so you know the drill.”
“Thanks,” Lewis said, propping himself up with the help of just one defender so he could shake hands too. “I heard you got one of the new squads, congratulations. You were due a leadership position way before now, honestly.”
Gutierrez shrugged. “I was an outsider, it took time to prove my trustworthiness. Besides, Matt and Trev both did good jobs. Same with you and Jane up north.” He motioned down the canyon along the slope they were on. “Want to come say hi to everyone?”
From what he remembered from his previous visit, that was the direction of the emplacements overlooking Highway 31. “You're guarding the canyon now?” Lewis asked.
The former soldier nodded. “Half of us. Mine and Ben's squads are manning the southern position in the canyon, while Trev and Jane's squads are on the other side of the ridge on the southern slope. We have over four squads' worth of people, you know. Closer to five with the guys you brought, once our wounded are back in action. That's way more than needed for what Matt was assigned to guard, but Sergeant Harmon was willing to give us duties that didn't split us up too far.”
