by Nathan Jones
So Lewis spoke first. “I bet this is a huge weight off your shoulders. Not only are we looking at an answer to the town's starvation worries, but knowing we can trade for what we need should keep more people from killing themselves when they run out of food.”
Matt brightened slightly. “It is. I'm not sure if you were aware of just how close the town is to running out of food.”
Lewis was very aware. “This'll be a lifesaver if it works out.”
“It has to,” his friend agreed. He fell silent, apparently going back to working up the courage to get to the point. Lewis waited patiently. Meanwhile Jane, who'd paused in sorting through the potential trade goods they'd piled on the bed to listen politely to the conversation, got tired of waiting and started sorting again.
Instead of speaking his mind Matt turned his attention to the neatly arranged baggies on the table. “I take it you're planning to send ammo to trade?” he asked.
Lewis nodded. “It's the perfect opportunity. I'd be stupid not to.”
“Right.” His friend shifted awkwardly and glanced at Jane. “Hey Jane, mind if I talk to Lewis alone for a second?”
Without a word she straightened and headed into the other room, closing the door behind her. With someone else that might've been a sign she was miffed, but Lewis knew his wife; responding to a request without bothering with a verbal reply was perfectly normal for her.
It had driven him batty at first, when he thought she was ignoring him only to realize she was actually just quietly doing what he'd asked. The only time she immediately replied was to either refuse the request, ask for clarification, or let him know she didn't have time to do it right then and would do it later. And she got really, really annoyed if he asked again, tried to remind her, or asked for an update on her progress.
Once Jane was gone Matt took a deep breath, finally gathering his courage. “I need to talk to you about selling all this ammunition to the town instead.”
Lewis put his head in his hands. He'd been afraid of this from the moment he saw his friend at the door. “Dude, you're killing me. My family can't eat IOUs. Which coincidentally is what we got in our last trade with the town, for food we could've eaten.”
Matt plowed on. “You know we're running seriously low on ammo. We barely have enough for hunting, let alone defending ourselves.”
Lewis lifted his head, fighting hard to hold back his anger. “Matt, my private property is not the town's supply depot, just because you need it. My. Family. Can't. Eat. IOUs.”
His friend made an annoyed sound. “It would be nice if you didn't jump to conclusions and assume the worst every time I open my mouth. Just hear me out.”
After a brief hesitation Lewis nodded. “Sorry.” He couldn't put much sincerity in the word.
Matt took another breath. “We're about to trade for a bunch of food, which you can eat. What's the difference between hauling thousands of rounds to Mexico to buy food you'll then have to haul back, compared to selling it to the town for the food we haul back?”
That . . . actually wasn't the worst point. Assuming a few things. “Remember, the IOU I already have from the town has the food we sold you valued a lot higher than what we'll be getting from Mexico. I already expect a good return on that.”
“I was hoping you wouldn't go there.” Matt gave him a pained look. “Pull a few punches, man. The town's trying to dig itself out of a hole here.”
“So is my family, and I've put everything into this reloading business. You're trying to horn in on the future I'm trying to build for my wife and the kids I hope to have.”
He obviously wasn't the only one losing his cool in this conversation. “Well in that case the food the town trades for your ammo will need to have a markup for transportation and other expenses.”
Lewis smiled humorlessly. “I thought you were trying to make me want to trade with you.”
His friend swore at him.
He was probably pushing this a little too far, but the town was too. “You know you're one of my best friends, Matt, but in your capacity as Mayor you're kind of a dick.”
Matt visibly reined himself in. “At least give me a chance to work out a deal. You can't argue we need that ammo.”
Lewis sighed. He supposed it was only fair to let the town have the first offer, as long as it was reasonable. Although a little resentful part of himself couldn't help but remember the last time Matt had demanded first offer on behalf of the town, when Ned Orban came to trade.
“Fine,” he growled. “But only half. I'll want a couple thousand for my family's needs, and another couple to trade down in Mexico for more reloading supplies.” He firmed in his tone. “And I call in all the town's debts to me as soon as the truck gets back.”
His friend nodded grudgingly and offered his hand. “You couldn't pick a worse time, but I suppose you deserve that after all you've done for the town.”
Worse time? More accurately the only time when the town would actually have enough surplus resources for Lewis to get what he was owed. But he'd already strained things with his friend enough for now, so he shook Matt's hand and arranged for them to discuss the purchase at the meeting with the town's leaders.
Once Matt was gone Jane came through the door, expression neutral. “Let me guess, he wanted our bullets.”
“He wanted our bullets,” Lewis confirmed wearily.
“And you agreed.” As was often the case, he couldn't tell from her tone what she thought about that.
“Partially. Half.”
“Okay.” Jane turned back to her work sorting out the stuff on the bed. “I'm fine with that, and I don't mind you speaking for me. Although our other partner might.”
Crap.
Lewis immediately dropped everything and ran to find Trev. He only hoped his cousin could forgive him for making the deal without talking to him first.
* * * * *
Trev felt a bit morose as he and Deb sorted through their stuff for anything they could send to the trade summit in exchange for food.
Unfortunately the Smith family wasn't exactly swimming in trade goods. They had no precious metals like Lewis had stored up, or Lucas had kept on his person for emergencies. They had only a few personal electronics, again unlike Lewis's far more extensive array of devices, not to mention his terabyte-size drives full of his archives. Most of their other stuff was handmade and not likely to be interesting to buyers, and anyway had taken so much effort to make it almost felt wrong to sell them at the price they'd probably go for.
Trev did have some weapons and equipment he'd captured from the blockheads. He'd been intending for everyone in his family to have a rifle and pistol they could use for hunting and self defense, but it looked as if his mom and Linda weren't too interested, and his dad insisted he could share with Jim. That made three rifles and three pistols, which was more than nothing.
They had a very small amount of honey harvested from the overtaxed hives, but they probably wanted that for themselves. They had hides and skins from the animals they'd hunted, carefully treated and preserved, but again it was anyone's guess whether those would be worth enough to justify the effort.
One silver lining was that Matt had announced that some of the weapons and gear from the blockheads that the volunteers had donated to the town would be sold, and it was only fair that the volunteers receive some share of the profits. That could turn out to be significant.
With all that, though, Trev was really glad Lewis had included him in his reloading venture. Those reloaded bullets were probably the only trade item that would really put the families ahead, and they really needed that.
He and his wife had just finished going over everything, and he was getting her input on what she felt like they could do without, when Deb dropped a bombshell on him.
“I can think of one other thing that isn't really a necessity,” his wife said. She had an odd, fond smile on her face as she leaned in and kissed him softly. “Something I love you for giving me, but that I can do wi
thout and never needed in the first place, you sweet, silly idiot.”
“Okay . . .” Trev said hesitantly. He wasn't sure whether to be amused or insulted, relieved or worried. “I'm drawing a blank.”
In answer Deb hesitated, looking slightly reluctant, then with determination plucked out the small pouch tucked into her shirt. In it rested the diamond ring he'd given her, which she always wanted to keep with her but didn't dare wear on her hand while doing so many chores.
Trev flinched as realization dawned. “No.”
His wife gave him a sad smile. “I love what this represents, Trev, but I don't need it,” She ran her finger along the large stone. “Now that we've found a place where valuables are still valuable this could mean a lot of necessities for us. For our child when it's born. This can help get us through the next winter and build our future.”
“I don't want you to have to give it up,” he insisted.
Deb frowned and nudged his shoulder. “Hey! What kind of jerk am I going to feel like wearing a useless hunk of jewelry when we're going hungry? Do this for me.”
Trev looked at her helplessly. Her selling that ring felt a huge failure on his part. He realized that wasn't the most rational perspective, but it didn't change his feelings.
His wife took in his miserable expression and her eyes softened. “You know, a lot of people thought you were an idiot to buy something like this, spending food we'd desperately need on a wild extravagance. But the joke's on them since it's going to end up being a great investment, right?”
He knew she was right, but he still couldn't bring himself to smile back.
She took his hand. “Once we're in a better place, maybe when the reloading business takes off or we build up a comfortable surplus from the beehives, gardens, and livestock, you can get me another ring. One I'll be just as proud to wear.” She placed her ring in his palm and firmly closed his fingers over it. “This is for us, Trev.”
After a final reluctant pause, he nodded and tucked it safely into his wallet. “I love you,” he offered.
Deb answered with a kiss. Which lingered into a longer kiss. She was maneuvering him towards the bed, already working on his shirt, when a frantic knock sounded at the door leading outside.
They broke away, grinning at each other in amused embarrassment. “Raincheck,” Deb mouthed, turning towards the door while Trev hastily did up the buttons his wife had undone.
It turned out to be Lewis, who uncharacteristically burst in before Deb invited him. “Trev, we need to talk about the ammo. I told Matt we'd sell the town half.”
“Okay,” Trev said. His cousin just stared at him and he shifted uncomfortably, wondering if Lewis had caught some hint of what he'd just interrupted. “What?”
His cousin shook his head. “Just glad you don't mind I made the decision without you.”
Trev waved that off. “You've put the most into this, I don't mind you taking the lead.”
“Okay. But either way I'll be better about keeping you in the loop.” Lewis motioned for him to follow, already turning towards the door. “Come on, we've got some work to do.”
As his cousin disappeared outside Trev again exchanged amused looks with Deb. Apparently keeping him in the loop didn't involve telling him where they were going or what they were doing right then and there. “Want to come along?” he asked his wife.
“Sure.” She took his hand and together they strolled outside.
They didn't have to wait long to find out what work Lewis had in mind. Before he'd consider trading the ammunition, let alone using it themselves, he insisted on testing for quality. Which turned out to be a bit of a process, and by the end of it Trev was glad Deb was along to help out.
The first step was visual, looking over all the bullets by eye to make sure none were obviously poorly made. Next came other methods such as weighing bulk quantities to make sure the weights were uniform, although if they'd done their jobs right through the entire process it was unlikely they wouldn't be. And there were a few more tests he had them run through, most of which involved a lot of individual peering and checking through thousands of cartridges.
Unfortunately, after everything else came the big one, which his cousin obviously didn't like even though he admitted the necessity of it: actually shooting the bullets. It would be a waste of good ammunition, but only if they could prove the ammo was actually good and therefore a waste.
Lewis's method was to take one out of every 100 bullets, which they'd done their best to separate into batches based on when they were made. Some he chose at random, while others were the most visually imperfect of the bunch.
Then he loaded them one at a time into a gun of the correct caliber that he'd carefully cleaned and maintenanced, to decrease the likelihood that any potential misfire would be weapon related.
This last test drew the attention of most of the family, the shelter group, and a fair number of onlookers from the town. Which Lewis was perfectly happy with, since the more people who saw the reliability of the reloaded bullets, the better their reputation would be moving forward. Aspen Hill's leaders were also there in an official capacity, since the town was considering buying a serious amount of ammo from them at a serious price and wanted to make sure they got their money's worth.
Trev was sure he wasn't the only one who held his breath as his cousin started with the first round, which was also one of the first ones they'd reloaded. Reloads had a reputation for misfires, but in spite of that even one misfire out of the 80 rounds he was going to shoot today would be depressing and a ding on the quality of their ammunition. They'd worked very hard and very carefully to make sure they'd done a good job, and had dismantled more than a few cartridges to try again when a mistake had been made, or simply thrown out the defective ones entirely.
More than his reputation, though, Trev wanted every one those shots to fire to prove that he was competent at this, and that he hadn't wasted precious time and materials and let Lewis down. From his cousin's expression he obviously felt the same way. Even Jane, usually unflappable, looked a bit tense.
The first round fired off, and to Trev's surprise the crowd gave a relieved cheer. He supposed if the town was going to be using this ammo they all wanted it to do well, but it also felt good to know their friends were rooting for them.
It took a bit longer than usual to fire all 80 rounds. Lewis was loading them individually, both to demonstrate to the crowd that he was firing the reloaded bullets and so he could keep track of which batch each cartridge came from. If there was a misfire he wanted to know which 100 bullets to take a closer look at.
There was a scare halfway through with a misfire, but when Lewis cleared the pistol and gave the bullet a second try it fired normally. That wasn't great, since it could've been either the gun or the round that caused the initial malfunction, but it was better than a complete dud.
Thankfully the remainder of the bullets all fired perfectly.
Once his cousin had shot the last round Matt formally shook his hand, part congratulation and part to seal the deal. They still hadn't agreed on a price with the town, but it looked as if their reloading business had just made its first sale of 4,000 rounds.
Matt turned to the rest of the town leaders. “All right. Since we're all gathered here anyway I guess we should get started on that meeting. We need to discuss how we're going to get a truck running, what goods we'll send in it, who's going to take it down to San Antonio, and what we want them to try to trade for.”
* * * * *
Aside from a bit of time wasting crosstalk, the meeting helped a lot with organizing and preparing for the trading expedition so they'd be ready to go before the convoy set out. To Matt a week seemed like a long time, but there was a lot to get done in that time.
The first and most obvious question was which vehicle to use. Lewis was the one who suggested what was probably their best option, which was to get some serious manpower and the backhoe that had been sitting next to the town hall tent all winter
, use what remained of the fuel leftover from their visit to Manti last fall along with some of what the military just given them for the project, and go pull out the captured blockhead truck that had wrecked in Aspen Hill Canyon during the fight against the blockheads.
Lewis had run it off the road during an ambush to avoid getting blown up by a rocket-propelled grenade, and it had flipped upside down in the stream. It had been hit by a second grenade after Lewis had managed to escape from the cab with his dad, but the explosion had hit in the back and the sturdily reinforced chassis and windows had come through with only superficial damage. The canvas tarp that had covered the back and the struts that held it were both toast, though, and they'd have to make some real repairs before they could load anything inside it.
It was still their best bet as long as the engine remained in good shape after the winter and the tires were intact, and if they could manage to haul it back up to the road and charge or replace the battery, then do a thorough maintenance check and necessary repairs.
Matt could tell the suggestion pained Catherine and Scott Tillman, since their son-in-law Carl Raymond had been killed in that attack when the truck flipped, and mention of it reminded them of their loss. But in spite of that they agreed they should try to get the vehicle working.
As for finding a trailer, Gutierrez thought he knew of a good animal trailer that he'd seen on a farm a bit south of town. The blockheads had looted and burned the place but left the trailer alone. Of course after over a year and a half of sitting there, assuming it had even been in use before the Gulf burned, the tires would almost definitely need to be replaced. They'd probably also want to oil the axles and hitch. But other than that it should be good to go.
They'd need to get on both those options right away to make sure they were viable, because otherwise they'd have to scramble to find alternatives in time. Trev and Gutierrez agreed to immediately hike down and check the trailer, while Lewis and Ben and anyone they could find who had experience as a mechanic would go down and check the truck's engine.
