by Nathan Jones
He pulled her to him and kissed her forehead. “Best day of my life,” he said solemnly. “Maybe we should pull a Lewis and Jane and elope right now?” That drew another howl of protest from the peanut gallery, and Trev gave them a resigned look. “Or I suppose we should stick to what we've been planning for weeks now, huh?”
Alice, who'd been wrapped in Rick's arms not far away, disentangled herself enough to sympathetically pat Deb's shoulder. “I can see why you fell for this guy. He's a romantic right down to the core.”
In spite of the banter Deb's expression was serious as she looked up into Trev's eyes, as if no one else was there. “I know, right?” she said softly.
A slightly awkward silence fell until Matt cleared his throat. “Hot chocolate?”
“Hot chocolate,” Rick replied, to a murmur of agreement. The crowd slowly drifted away, leaving Trev and his fiancee still there wrapped up in each other's company.
“Ten days,” Trev said quietly.
Deb shivered slightly. He couldn't tell if it was from the cold, excitement, or nervousness. Maybe some combination. “Soon,” she agreed. Then she pulled away and grabbed his hand. “But today's Thanksgiving, one of my favorite holidays.”
“Thanksgiving?” he said with a slight smile. “Not Christmas or Halloween or Easter?”
A brief flash of pain crossed her features. “My mom was a great cook, and we always had family fly in to be with us. The entire Holiday Season was one big event for us, starting with Thanksgiving.”
Trev put a comforting arm around his fiancee. Her parents had divorced in her early teens, and her mom had died of cancer a few years before the Gulf burned. There was no way to say how the rest of the family had fared. They'd been scattered around the country, and Deb herself had only ended up in Newtown while trying to get to her brother's house in Milwaukee. She had no happy outcomes there, like Trev had managed by finding his family and the Halssons in Michigan and bringing them safely back to Aspen Hill.
Maybe there'd be some hope of finding them once things got more organized in the fledgling nation in the Utah Rockies. A lot of refugees had found their way here from all over the country, and Chauncey Watson had a list of names of Aspen Hill residents' missing loved ones that he'd submitted to the military and regularly read off over radio. It was a long list, and so far there'd been no joyful reunions, but hope lived on.
Deb's moment of grief soon passed. She shook herself slightly and smiled up at him. “So let's enjoy today. Hot chocolate?”
“Hot chocolate,” he agreed, leading the way to where the kids of the Smith and Halsson families waited. Lewis was already getting some cheering and ribbing for his part in the game, although Jim, Linda, and even Mary gleefully moved on to Trev as their new target.
In spite of the insulation around the containers, the hot chocolate was only warm. Still, it was delicious and did its job heating everyone up so they could socialize. People gradually drifted away to help with dinner preparations or be with family, including Matt, who'd left his wife and baby Olivia at home where it was warm. Although Sam had made a few brief appearances to cheer him on.
After about fifteen minutes Trev, Deb, his siblings, and their cousins and Jane all made their own goodbyes and headed back to the Halsson cabin, where the meal was being prepared.
Trev approved the choice, and not just because it was the slightly larger and nicer cabin, complete with a projector on one wall so they could watch movies or TV shows from Lewis's archives. Celebrating the holiday there would also help lift the pall that had fallen over the place since Lucas's death, and give everyone something to be cheerful about.
Deb and Mary immediately made their way over to the stove to help Clair and Aunt Eva with the meal preparations. From the looks of things there wasn't much to help with, although the lure seemed to be socializing.
Meanwhile Lewis and Trev excused themselves to get cleaned up. After a hasty wipe down and a new change of clothes, Trev came back to find his cousin getting the projector going. Lewis shopped around movie ideas until they found one most of the family wanted and the others could stand to watch, and they got it going.
A Christmas movie, of course. One of the ones that started at Thanksgiving and continued on through the Holiday Season. Trev was one of those who'd only reluctantly agreed on the choice, although he felt better about it when Deb came over to snuggle with him on the carpet leaning against a wall, underneath a big comfy blanket.
The family's Thanksgiving dinner was going to follow the same idea Trev had with Lewis when they were up in the hideout: since they couldn't justify eating too much more on such strict rations, instead they opted for having a wide variety of foods to enjoy a little taste from. And if one good thing could be said for the supplies the military had sent, it was that there were plenty of different things there to pick from.
Thanks to that a lot of the meal preparations didn't involve the stove itself, but instead making up trays of stale but still delicious packaged items. Which wasn't the say the stove wasn't working overtime boiling root vegetables, grilling various cuts of meat, cooking rice and beans, and even heating an assortment of canned or bottled sauces.
With so many foods cooking the smells should've clashed, but instead they permeated the cabin with a delightful aroma that had Trev's mouth watering as he watched the movie. Especially since he'd worked up a good appetite with the football earlier.
His mom insisted on pausing the movie halfway through, since all the food was done cooking and she wanted them to eat it while it was hot. Nobody complained as they eagerly got in line, cooks first.
Trev filled his plate with a few each of crackers spread with crumbly goat cheese or peanut butter, canned pickles, skewers with chunks of seasoned deer, goat, mutton, rabbit, and chicken meat, and a generous helping of rice and beans covered in salsa. There were plenty of other things to try, and even more for dessert, and his family's plates all reflected their different tastes.
By eating slow and enjoying every bite they fully enjoyed the various sweet and savory treats, and ended the meal more than satisfied and ready to finish the Christmas movie and pick another. After they finished the second and were discussing a third Lewis reluctantly announced that they should probably switch to other activities before they drained the batteries, so they wouldn't end up spending the night in the dark with just flashlights and candles. Maybe tomorrow night too, depending on how long this storm lasted.
With the snowfall the solar panels weren't getting much juice, and the shortening days and frequent cloud cover definitely didn't help. But at least they'd managed a couple hours of holiday nostalgia.
Luckily they had a selection of party games, board games, and several decks of cards. And Lewis could pull up more games on his phone or even his laptop.
In the late afternoon there was a knock on the door, and they opened it to welcome in Matt and Sam. The storm had abated and the temperature was reasonably warm, and everyone was delighted to see that the new parents carried a small squirming bundle of warm coverings with two big dark eyes peeking out.
As baby Olivia made her rounds to all her adoring fans, the young couple described their own meal.
The Larson clan had gone for a more traditional Thanksgiving dinner. Ed had managed to bag a wild turkey a week or so ago, and after preparing it they'd kept it frozen for this occasion. Combined with a few cans of cranberry sauce, some packets of powdered gravy, and a bag of potatoes, as well as a somewhat awkward peach pie made from canned peaches, graham crackers, eggs, and honey, they had very close to a proper meal.
Trev knew Ed and Matt had both worked hard to get even that together, scouring the town and making unfavorable trades. But from the way Sam glowed and his friend's enthusiastic descriptions of the family's enjoyment it sounded as if it had been worth it.
They invited their friends to stay for a few games, but the offer was reluctantly turned down. “It's about time for another of this little lady's Thanksgiving dinners, and then
bedtime,” Sam said, gently running a finger along Olivia's cheek. She held out her arms and Linda, who'd been resisting everyone's attempts to have her pass the baby along, reluctantly handed the sleepy bundle over.
Before their visitors could leave there was another knock at the door, and Lewis let Rick, Alice, and Wes Watson into the already overcrowded house.
Wes looked a bit disappointed that there wasn't a movie running, and less than thrilled at the prospect of playing party games, although Rick and his wife seemed happy to settle down and join in. Lewis got a game going on his phone that Jim and Wes could play, while Matt and Sam hung around for a few more minutes to socialize with the new arrivals.
“And speaking of new arrivals . . .” Alice began, cheeks rosy from the cold blushing even redder. A grinning Rick put his arms around his wife as she rested a hand on her stomach over her coat. “We've got some news of our own.”
Trev could've sworn an air raid siren went off in the cabin as every single woman there collectively lost their minds. The blond young woman was swarmed with congratulatory hugs and a barrage of questions.
In the meantime Trev made his way over to Rick, who looked almost grateful to be pushed to the edge of that chaos, and shook his hand along with George, Lewis, and Matt.
“Big news,” Lewis said unnecessarily.
Rick nodded. “I'm really glad Dr. Maggy is around.”
“Yeah she did a great job with Sam,” Matt agreed. He rested a hand on his friend's shoulder. “And getting proper medical equipment and facilities up and running is a top priority for the town. With any luck by the time the baby's due Alice will have a hospital to deliver in.”
Trev nodded along with the others, although that claim seemed incredibly optimistic. He could see the others were equally skeptical.
After the furor died down Matt and Sam finally retrieved Olivia and excused themselves. The baby had fallen asleep in Linda's arms, although she stirred awake and began making hungry noises as her mommy wrapped her back in her warm coverings and the three headed out the door.
The Watsons stayed for about a half hour. After they left the family enjoyed another meal, finishing off the leftovers, then took turns sharing what they were grateful for. Before the Gulf burned the tradition had been only reluctantly followed, especially by the kids. In stark contrast now just about everyone there almost made a short speech of it, spending several minutes baring their heart about all the blessings their family had enjoyed, plenty of good to go with the bad.
More than a few tears were shed, and Trev could admit his own eyes didn't stay dry. Especially when his turn came around, and even more so when Deb followed him.
Finally it started to get late. Trev, his family, and Deb bundled up to brave the storm, which had resumed and grown to howling blasts of snow with the onset of darkness. Trev led the way following the rope leading back to their cabin, glad they were in the middle of town. He'd heard of people being lost in blizzards, found frozen less than a hundred feet from their homes but unable to find them in the blinding flurries. This wasn't anywhere near that bad, but he could barely see past their home.
The ropes had been a good precaution.
With some wheedling Linda reluctantly agreed to hang out in the main room for a while so Trev and Deb could spend some time together. “Is it crazy that I almost love storms, when it means we can do this?” Deb asked as she borrowed against his side on her bed and he pulled the blankets up beneath their chins.
Soon both their bed. That was a sobering thought.
After a heated kiss Trev broke away for a breath and to reply, “Is the storm really the part you like?”
She answered by pressing her lips to his again.
All too soon he reluctantly decided that decorum demanded he break things off before they enjoyed themselves too much. As he pulled back Deb made a disappointed noise. “Can't we just cuddle then?” she asked.
That was too tempting to pass up, and for a half hour or so they just enjoyed the feel of human contact and warmth. Then Deb, who had her head resting against his cheek, began kissing her way down his jaw until she found his lips again.
He let that be their goodnight kiss, enjoying it for a minute or so before reluctantly extricating himself. “Nine days,” he said to her disappointed look.
“I'm starting to think your joke about eloping this morning really was romantic,” his fiancee said dryly as she burrowed back into the blankets. “Nine days feels like a long time.”
She was telling him. He dragged his feet to the main room, ignoring the dirty look Linda shot his way as she climbed off the comfortable bed he was borrowing from her to make her way in and sleep on the inferior cot.
“Nine days,” he said to her as well.
“Not soon enough,” she groused as she flounced past him and slammed the door in his face.
* * * * *
Trev was woken from his sleep by a lurid red light blinking on the small chest beside his bed, cutting through the dimness of the main room and overwhelming the small nightlight they kept near the back door.
His radio, set to the emergency channel. Trev fumbled for the headset and put it on. “Smith here,” he said quietly.
Rick's voice came loud in his ears. He'd been one of the few people on patrol duty tonight, with sentry duty canceled due to the low visibility. During storms the defenders patrolled just outside the perimeter of the town on a route marked by closely set stakes with flags, checking for anything out of the ordinary.
“Trev, you need to get to the Weavers right now.” His friend sounded distraught, almost more than Trev had ever heard him. And he'd fought at Rick's side through the worst the blockheads could throw at them.
He was already out of bed and throwing on his clothes, fumbling to find his weapons. “On my way. Do we need more people?”
“No. I mean yes, maybe. I don't-” his friend cut off with a choking sound. “I don't know. Just get here.”
That wasn't doing anything for the adrenaline flooding Trev's system. “What is it?”
“I don't want to have to describe it. Please.”
Matt's voice abruptly intruded on the conversation, clear and firm. “I'm on my way too.”
Trev finished pulling on his coat, stomped into his boots and stuffed the laces down inside without tying them, grabbed his AK-47, and started for the door. He could see Jim staring at him wide-eyed from his bed, and his parents were stirring in theirs, but he didn't spare the time to say anything.
Under a minute after waking he was out the door.
The icy wind and driving snow hit him like a physical blow, with his head uncovered and his coat open. He was glad he slept in socks and warm clothes, at least, as he trampled through snow over his knees. The storm had abated enough to see where he was going, and he cut through the houses towards the Weavers' cabin.
It was one of the larger ones, not because the Weavers were well off but because they had a large extended family all sharing the space. It was also right on the edge of town, a stone's throw from the patrol route Rick had been following.
As he came within sight of the cabin he saw a dark shape thrashing through the snow even farther out, nearly on his hands and knees and covering ground in small bounds. “I can't find any tracks!” Rick called desperately to him as he approached. “There's nothing! It's like they came and went without a trace! The storm must've blown away any signs.”
“Who?” Trev demanded, sick dread churning in his gut. His friend didn't answer, just pointed at the cabin. With a deep sense of misgiving Trev slowly approached the door, which was gaping open with the latch broken.
That was an ominous warning of what he would find inside. Trev only allowed himself a few moments to shine his flashlight around the interior and take in the scene before staggering out again, gulping the bitter gusting wind in panting breaths as he fought to keep from throwing up his Thanksgiving dinner.
All eleven Weavers were still in their bunk beds, aside from a couple in the b
ack who must've woken up in time and tried to defend themselves, only to be taken down just feet from their bed with multiple stab wounds. The rest lay where they'd slept with their throats cut. The privacy curtains between beds had been torn down and there was blood everywhere: on the beds, on the walls, puddling on the packed dirt floor, tracked around by at least three sets of big bootprints. The family's food supply had been neatly stacked against one wall, but now it was scattered across the floor and partially trampled underfoot. Trev was sure the murderers who'd done this had taken all they could, but it was impossible to tell how much had been carried away or by how many people.
If monsters who'd do something like this could still be called people.
Matt arrived a few minutes later with Lewis and Jane. Trev had joined Rick searching for any sign of the attackers, but like his friend had said the storm had blown away any tracks. Both of them trampling around searching likely hadn't helped any, either.
The three new arrivals weren't in any better shape after seeing the carnage. After a few minutes of grim silence while they recovered Matt finally spoke. “Going by Occam's razor, this was likely some of the displaced refugees turned bandits. Grimes can't have rounded them all up.”
Trev nodded reluctantly. “Most of them had a grudge against the town for turning them away.”
“I'm not sure they could,” Lewis argued. “They were poorly equipped and starving by the time Grimes found most of them. How could any survive this long in the cold? How could they have the strength or cold weather gear to attack in the middle of a storm?”
“Who else could it be?” Matt demanded. “A blockhead raid would've hit the entire town, or at least more than one house.” Lewis hesitated, reluctant to answer, and Matt's eyes narrowed. “You have a thought, you just don't want to say it.”
Trev's cousin sucked in a breath. “A storm like this is a great time to raid when it comes to not getting caught, but it's nearly impossible for every other reason. Outside raiders would have to trek for miles to get here, with every chance of getting lost within the first hundred yards. And if coming in would test them to their limits, how much could they reasonably carry away? Especially knowing pursuit couldn't be far behind.”
