Shortage (Best Laid Plans Book 2)

by Nathan Jones

  Matt frowned slightly. He'd come to respect Jane's ability and thoroughness out on patrol, and the women was polite enough when he talked to her, but she'd kept herself aloof from the town and even those who went on patrol with her. Especially the refugees. Matt didn't know if she'd always been standoffish or it was thanks to whatever she'd suffered before coming to Aspen Hill, but Jane Mathers wasn't around to make friends. “You volunteered? Why?”

  The redheaded woman shrugged. “The extra payment of food made it a tempting offer, and we were through that area more recently than anyone else so we can be useful.” She shrugged again. “Besides, if the guys you're going after are the same ones who saved us from those bandits I'd like to meet them. Get their autograph, express my undying gratitude, you know.”

  Matt turned to look at Tom, who sighed. “It's not my idea of a fun way to spend however many days it takes to get there and back, but my family needs the food. Besides, I feel like I owe it to Jane, and to Mitch, to look after her. We wouldn't be here without their leadership and protection.”

  If anything Jane looked almost annoyed by the high praise as she waved at Matt's pack. “Got everything you need? It's going to be cold up in the mountains.”

  “Yeah, I'm set.” Matt went over and started to pick up his pack. “Let's go talk to the Mayor about food for the trip.”

  “Aren't you forgetting something?” Sam asked, turning him around and standing on tiptoes to kiss him with surprising fierceness. He got the hint when she didn't show any signs of breaking it off, holding him tight in a way that suggested she wasn't letting go anytime soon. After a few seconds he got over his surprise and let the backpack drop out of his hand so he could wrap his arms around his wife. Neither of them had had the energy for this sort of thing for what felt like forever, and he wasn't about to complain.

  An impatient cough from Jane brought him back to the present. He pulled back to see her and Tom still waiting by the door, the older man grinning at them. Meanwhile, familiar with the necessities of living in cramped quarters with multiple couples, including newlyweds, April was already shooing the boys out the door while Terry and their parents followed close behind.

  Matt felt his face redden, and he gave his traveling companions a sheepish look. “I, um, need to say goodbye. Can I meet you at the storehouse a bit later?”

  * * * * *

  Even as important as this task was, out of necessity Catherine's generosity could only extend so far. She allotted them enough food for four days, the bare minimum needed to get to the cousins' hideout near Candland Mountain in snowy conditions from where they were, then back again. Matt had taken the backroads up to there riding in the Halssons' SUV and knew the way, which was good since Jane and her group had gotten lost and taken an incredibly circuitous route to get to Aspen Hill.

  He was willing to allow that it was possible to make the distance there and back in that time on foot, but he had no idea how the terrain combined with deep snow would complicate things, especially since they were all weakened by hunger. It almost annoyed him that Catherine's solution to that was that they'd certainly reach the hideout in four days, and if worse came to worst they could always take whatever provisions they needed for the trip back out of the food the town was purchasing from the cousins.

  The Mayor was a sensible woman, not one for making assumptions, but he supposed in desperate times they had to take a leap of faith.

  He kept a steady pace after they set out, slowing down rather than stopping whenever any of them looked winded, and having them eat their meals of crudely dried meat as they walked. They all carried the water bottles they were currently drinking from in their coats to keep them from freezing, which Matt insisted on since eating snow would only chill them and sap strength they needed for walking. He planned to light a fire when they stopped for the night, not only for warmth but so that they could melt more water to fill their bottles and get a good long drink, then hopefully keep whatever they melted unfrozen for the next day's hike.

  Compared to the hikes he'd done last fall their pace was fairly slow and he'd never felt so exhausted, thanks in part to hunger and in part to a mostly uphill climb. That first day they made enough distance to get up beyond where the snow piled around their ankles to where it piled to their knees or even their hips in some places.

  With their packs they couldn't hope to walk on the crust without sinking, some places a few inches and some places a few feet, wading through powder and barking their shins on the icy crust with each step. Matt regretted not thinking to bring snowshoes, but as long as they picked their path carefully they should be fine. At the very least there'd been no sign of any storms when they set out, and the weather continued to remain clear, if colder up at these elevations.

  They'd made about half the distance in half a day, but unfortunately it was the easiest distance. Now they had deep snow and steeper inclines to contend with, which would make it a question of how long it would take to cover the rest of the distance the next day, if they even could. Matt was optimistic as he helped set up camp, though, estimating that with an early start they'd reach Highway 31 sometime in the afternoon. From there it wouldn't be long to the hideout.

  The morning dawned clear and cold, and Matt was pleased to discover that the-relatively-warmer temperatures yesterday that had softened the snow and made it such a chore to trudge through had resulted in a solid frozen crust that held their weight even in their packs as long as they stepped carefully. He had them quickly break camp and continue on, eating breakfast as they went. The snow crust carried them for a few hours, but it wasn't the heat of the rising sun that made it disappear.

  They'd come high enough that even during the day it wasn't warm enough to melt much of a crust to freeze on the snow. From here on out they'd be wading through powder the rest of the way, a tradeoff of lighter snow that was easier to kick through, but up to their hips or higher so every step was a chore. Their speed cut down dramatically, and Matt was sure he wasn't the only one whose muscles began to burn so fiercely he was forced to rest no matter how slow they'd been going. Tom especially was red-faced and huffing, the strain in his expression giving the lie to his insistence that he was ready to move on at the end of each rest.

  But finally they reached the highway, a bit later than Matt had estimated but not too far off course. The road itself wasn't much better than anywhere else with snow piled high along it, but at least the railings to either side had gathered snowdrifts from the prevailing winds and left the powder not quite as deep on the far side.

  Grinning with relief, Matt crossed to the lee side of the railing and led his companions north for the final short leg of their trip.

  * * * * *

  Lewis was busy seasoning the wheat he'd just boiled, with strips of rabbit cooking on the stovetop nearby, when Trev burst into the hideout.

  “You've got to see this!” he said, doing his best not to shout.

  His cousin immediately drew his 1911, holding it ready to quickly raise and aim. “Intruders?”

  Trev couldn't help the grin that spread across his face. “Kind of. You'll have to wait and see. Come on.” He turned and started back down the gentle slope toward the cliffs overlooking the road.

  “What's that supposed to mean?” Lewis demanded, standing at the threshold so he wouldn't get snow on his socks and shivering at the icy blasts of wind swirling into the lean-to around him. “I've got food cooking!”

  “Take it off the stove. Believe me, it'll be worth it.”

  Trev kept on going, and about a minute later his cousin trotted down the path they'd trampled through the deep snow to catch up to him. His boots were untied and he was still pulling on his heavy coat, and his irritation looked like it was about to boil over into actual anger. “Seriously, man, “Wait and see” is not the right response to a potentially dangerous situation.”

  Trev grinned and took the last few steps to the edge of the cliff, motioning towards the road south of them. “So why don't you show
me what the proper response is.”

  Grumbling to himself, Lewis accepted the binoculars Trev offered him and followed his pointing finger. He spent a few tense moments adjusting the range and getting a good look at the three approaching people, then slowly lowered the binoculars again to let them hang from the strap around his neck as he continued to gape southward. “Well, I wasn't expecting that.”

  Grin widening, Trev stepped up beside his cousin. “That's what I thought. Should we go welcome our guests?”

  His cousin thoughtfully reached up and tugged at his full beard. They'd made it a point to bathe regularly and do the necessary trimming and grooming, but as the days got colder and colder they'd both taken to letting their hair grow out to provide that added bit of warmth. Trev couldn't grow a very good beard, mostly on his jaw and neck, but it still warmed his face.

  He got the hint. “I suppose if they're still an hour or so away we could take some time to make ourselves presentable.”

  * * * * *

  Matt left Tom and Jane behind at the road with his backpack while he crossed the river on the familiar rocks and started up the slope towards his friends' hideout.

  He wasn't about to give out Trev and Lewis's secrets to anyone, even if he trusted the two new residents of Aspen Hill well enough. They'd certainly pointed out where he'd expected to find the “Spirits of Huntington River” who'd saved them from bandits last Halloween. It had been a few miles to the south of here, but it strongly supported his suspicions about Trev and Lewis being the ones who'd helped the refugees.

  On the way across the river he nearly slipped on the icy rocks, barely catching himself before tumbling into the partially frozen-over water, and he muttered in annoyance under his breath. He'd known it was going to still be winter up in the mountains, probably for another few months yet, and had prepared accordingly. But at the same time it was a bit of a pain to leave during the first relatively mild days of spring down in the valley and come up here to trudge through several feet of snow in temperatures well below freezing to search for his friends.

  Trev and Lewis may have had a good reason doing it, but he still thought they were crazy to come live up here where snow stuck around for 9 months of the year. Assuming they were still alive at all. Matt shook aside that grim thought and started up the slope, finding it even more slippery and treacherous than he remembered with all the snow around.

  They were alive. If an idiot like him had managed to muddle through the winter with his family those two would be just fine. They had to be.

  He was perfectly certain of that, but it didn't stop him from picking up the pace.

  A recent snowfall had been hard enough to drift a layer of snow under the dense trees growing up the steep slope, covering the treacherous deadfall underfoot, and although he didn't see any sign of a trail Matt thought the snow was a bit deeper to either side of the route he'd taken. The familiar one he'd hiked up with his friends a few times on fishing trips when they were much younger.

  Was it possible there was a trail buried under this snow, that his friends had used to get down to the river for fishing or to draw water? If so they hadn't used it recently.

  It took longer than he'd expected to reach the bottom of the cliffs and the treacherous gap that would allow him to climb up to the landing above with a bit of work. On the broken rocks there he finally saw what he'd been hoping for, the scuff of a boot print in the dirt that had gathered in one of the cracks. It was concealed from wind and snow by a slight overhang, but even so it couldn't have been there for more than a few weeks.

  Grinning in relief, he pulled himself the rest of the way up to the top of the cliffs, pausing for a moment to peer down at the road below, where Jane and Tom still waited. The trees down below partially obscured his view of them, and considering that he waved and they didn't wave back it must have obscured their view of him as well.

  “State your business.”

  Matt was so surprised he almost fell off the cliff as he whirled and fumbled at the .40 on his belt. Then he recognized the voice and relaxed. “Seriously, guys? You almost gave me a heart attack.”

  Trev popped up from behind a snowbank to his left, grinning like an idiot, while off to the right Lewis stepped from behind a bush. The older cousin started forward calmly to meet him, while Trev bounded through the snow to pull him into a crushing hug.

  Matt was surprised at how healthy the two looked. Their faces were leaner than he remembered, sure, but not in a way that suggested hunger. And while Trev's winter clothes made guessing his weight impossible Matt could tell by the strength of his arms that he had muscle under there. They were both clean-shaven, Lewis with a few small nicks on his cheeks, and their hair had been carefully trimmed and combed. And speaking as someone who'd lived with seven other people in close quarters Matt also had to admit they didn't smell that bad either, all things considered.

  What did you know, living up in the mountains in the dead of winter and the two were doing just fine.

  He had a feeling his grin was probably as goofy as his friend's as he stepped away from Trev to grip Lewis's offered hand. That grip was also nearly crushing, suggesting strength hidden beneath those bulky clothes. “The Spirits of Huntington River,” he said, looking between the two.

  Trev frowned. “What?”

  Matt motioned down at his traveling companions below. “We had a group of refugees come in around Thanksgiving, and the two people with me are actually part of that group. One of the reasons they came along is because they wanted to thank you. They told us they'd been saved from bandits in this area by some mysterious figure, and since it happened on Halloween that's what they started calling him.” Matt paused. “Or in this case them. That was you, right?”

  Lewis snorted, glancing over at Trev. “So we're dead and haunting this place, eh? Guess the townspeople prefer it that way.”

  “Don't be an idiot,” Matt said, feeling a bit guilty even though he hadn't helped Anderson's group empty out the shelter. “Listen, Ferris and his FETF goons ditched us a week or so before Thanksgiving, during the Indian summer before cold really set in. They packed up the rest of the town's food supplies in bicycle trailers and pedaled off for good, leaving us to manage things on our own again. And good riddance.”

  “I'll agree to that,” Lewis said. “Hopefully the town learned its lesson there.”

  “Definitely.” Matt brightened, eager to change the subject, and even more eager about what he was changing it to. “And something big happened personally for me this winter.” He held up his hand to show the wedding band on his ring finger, one of his dad's old ones given as a wedding present.

  The two men stared at it in shock. “No way,” Trev said, finally finding his voice at the same time he found his grin. “Sam?” Matt nodded, grinning back, and his friend pulled him into another crushing hug. “Congratulations!”

  “Congratulations!” Lewis echoed, slapping him on the back almost hard enough to knock Matt and Trev over.

  Trev backed away so he could also clap Matt on the back. “Tell us about it.”

  Matt was only too happy to, describing his proposal and the wedding. The entire time Trev kept grinning like an idiot, and even Lewis was smiling broadly. Once he finished Trev shook his head.

  “I'll have to think of a wedding present for you.”

  “Are you kidding? Your cache was the present of a lifetime.” Matt hastily turned to Lewis. “And the shelter! We'll never be able to thank you enough.”

  The mention of those things seemed to remind the cousins about the events last fall, and some of their good humor faded. “What about Mandy?” Trev asked quietly.

  In spite of the happy reunion Matt scowled at the memory of the poisonous woman. “We caught her trying to steal food from my parents' pantry the night Ferris left, after Razor attacked the town. Caught her red-handed, but she-”

  “Whoa whoa, wait,” Lewis interrupted. “Razor attacked the town?”

  Matt nodded and quickly went o
ver the events of that day last fall, months in the past now but still vividly etched in his memory. He finished off by finally getting around to answering Trev's question about Mandy. “So anyway when we caught her she tried to lie to us, not that any of us believed her. She was one of the first criminals Catherine exiled, and once she was gone it was a lot easier to stamp down the false claims she'd made about you. People figured that if she'd lie and steal she wasn't too trustworthy about other things either.”

  Trev smiled, but Matt thought he still looked a touch bitter. “That's great. All it took to trust the person who grew up next door over a complete stranger was finding out that stranger was a liar.”

  A somewhat uncomfortable silence fell. “Catherine was on your side the whole time, and so were a lot of other people. And I'm sure those that weren't feel bad about it now.” Matt squared his shoulders. “Anyway conditions in the town were much better with Ferris and Razor both gone. I forgot to mention that Catherine also invited the refugees to come live in the town that day. Since we had no food there wasn't any reason to keep them out anymore, and anyway the Mayor figured if she made the refugees citizens of Aspen Hill that would stop the growing hatred between them and us “townies”. And it did, for the most part. We put aside our differences and turned our focus to surviving the winter.”

  “How bad was it?” Lewis asked. From his tone he wasn't expecting good news.

  Matt shook his head grimly. “Bad. With Ferris confiscating and “redistributing” what little food we had among the refugees, no one had enough. Our estimate is that over a third, closer to half, of Aspen Hill's population, refugees included, died during the winter. Of starvation, cold, or illness. And to survive even as well as we did we had to slaughter almost all our livestock, including horses, as well as most of the pets.”

  Lewis sucked in a breath. “That's a lot of vital future usefulness wasted. Historically one of the most common signs of prosperity was the size of a community's herd.”