by Nathan Jones
“Speaking of which, I'd better get to dealing with those thousand refugees.” Matt clapped the retired teacher on the shoulder and turned to the gathering group. “All right, everyone. Let's coordinate to split up and scour the town for as many townspeople as we can get to come with us, as long as they can keep up a reasonable pace for a half hour or more. We want everyone armed with rifles, body armor for as many as we can, dark clothing if possible so we look more coordinated and competent. Emphasize that we're not going to a fight, just to intimidate them into turning back. I don't expect violence, but don't dismiss the possibility.”
In a few minutes he'd gotten almost everyone split up to their tasks. As for the dozens of people who'd already gathered, curious about what was going on, he started organizing them in handing out the town's store of weapons, ammo, and other gear. He also put the obvious noncombatants to work sorting out enough water and provisions to last everyone the night if necessary, including camping gear to that list. Most people were sensible enough to have prepared packs with the essentials, and the others quickly ran home to throw them together.
Lewis, Gutierrez, Jane, Trent, Rick, Alice, and others he could depend on quickly arrived to pitch in. Matt put them to work splitting everyone into squads, with them and others among the most competent volunteers and defenders as leaders. He declined to lead his own squad, since he'd need to focus on his role as Mayor and spokesman.
Too bad Trev seemed determined to be out on his own the last few days. Matt was all for leading by example and being willing to do the less desirable tasks and all that, and Trev was definitely doing an important job scouting the approaching refugees to make sure there were no surprises.
Even so, he would've preferred if the leader of the town's defenses was actually here, leading its defenses.
In his friend's absence he assigned Gutierrez to lead the group, with Lewis as his lieutenant in charge of the volunteers and defenders who'd be out in front. With the group well in hand, that gave Matt and the town leaders breathing room to focus on how they'd approach negotiating with the refugees to turn them back.
There were roughly four hundred rifles in town between what they'd originally had, what they'd gotten from Turner's raiders, and the far larger number the volunteers had captured from the blockheads. After the prolonged fight with the Gold Bloc they'd used up all their grenades and Molotov cocktails, and likewise their M2s and missile launchers were either destroyed or out of ammo and had been traded to the military for supplies. They had a modest supply of pepper spray and a bit of other riot control gear, but not enough to handle even a few dozen people, let alone a thousand.
Just in case this was some trick of Rogers's to lure out all of Aspen Hill's defenses so he could come in and occupy the vulnerable town, Matt took only 300 townspeople with him when they were ready to leave. He left the rest of the weapons and several defenders behind, led by Jane with Deb and Grant assisting her. There were enough pistols to arm a large portion of the townspeople if those leaving to handle the refugees left behind their sidearms, but Matt wasn't sure that was wise.
In the end he left the best balance of weapons he could to keep the town safe, while still presenting a strong show of force to the approaching mob. Although he worried for those he left behind as he, Gutierrez, and Lewis led their own mob out to meet them.
They started off at a jog until they reached the base of the valley's western slope, and took it at a fast walk until they reached the top. There they jogged again along the slight downward slant of the road until it evened out, where he let them slow to a normal walk to let them catch their breaths and ease burning calves.
Nobody in town was eating well, and although everyone was in decent shape thanks to constant work, that work also left them worn down. It was a hard pace to maintain, but every foot they managed to go before encountering the refugees meant one foot farther from town they'd turn the men back, in case there was trouble.
Worst case scenario would be if the refugees outright attacked them and by some miracle won, took their weapons, and continued on to Aspen Hill. But it would also be pretty bad if they decided to split up into dozens or even hundreds of small groups and dispersed into the countryside. The town could find itself beset on all sides, hassled, aggravated, and forced to constantly deal with unruly intruders.
Or maybe they'd get lucky. Maybe Matt could convince these guys this was all a misunderstanding and they should head back to the refugee camp. And maybe roast geese would drift down from the sky beneath parachutes made of down comforters, and they'd all get a nice meal and a good night's sleep.
Trev met up with them 40 minutes later, a bit more than 3 miles from town. He'd been radioing in regular reports as they ran, confirming the refugees were sticking to the road and hadn't sent out scouts. They'd moved even slower than his friend had predicted, and while Matt still wasn't best pleased with how close they were to the valley, at least they were farther than they could be.
On Trev's advice they sent a dozen people in pairs out to circle around the footsore horde and watch them from all sides. The rest of the town's show of force set up in an ideal spot along the road to confront them, waiting behind a ridgeline until the refugees got close, then in good order coming into view as a long line with three ranks.
The men below immediately halted, milling on the verge of panic as they tried to figure out what was going on. They obviously hadn't expected to be greeted by hundreds of armed men and women, a group that was obviously far too large and well equipped to be bandits. Again Matt felt a surge of pity for the poor people, but there was no help for it.
This problem wasn't of his making, but he was the one who had to deal with it.
At the same time that was a lot of people down there. It wasn't as if Matt hadn't seen crowds before, even ones much larger than this. And just days ago he'd addressed practically the whole town at the commemoration, which had been nearly this many people. Still, the knowledge that even if the refugees were friendly they presented an issue for the town, and if they were unfriendly a potential threat, made the numbers far more daunting.
Since the ragged men obviously had no intention of continuing forward, and they didn't seem to have any leaders or representatives to send, Matt started down the road to get within shouting distance. He had a megaphone with him, but he didn't want to be that impersonal, and he also wanted to be able to hear the refugees' response to what he said.
He also had body armor and a helmet on, which he was grateful for as he got farther and farther from the support of his friends and neighbors lined up behind him. That vulnerability was mostly an illusion, since he was still within a hundred yards of his people and there were plenty of awfully good shooters among the defenders and volunteers. He was well covered and had a clear line of retreat if things went south.
Still, Matt couldn't help but think of John Anderson, who'd been Mayor before Catherine, way back at the beginning when the Gulf burned. The man had gone out to confront Razor and his mob of 50 gang members as they swarmed into Aspen Hill to attack the town storehouse, and had wound up getting shot in the head for his troubles.
He sincerely hoped Trev was right and there weren't any weapons down there. Or if there were, that his gear would protect him.
A small huddle of men separated from the group and tentatively edged forward. None spoke, so Matt called out. “Did you come from the refugee camp?”
One of the men nervously shouted back. “Yeah. We're being sent to some place called Aspen Hill. They agreed to take us in.”
That seemed to confirm what Chauncey had told him. Matt thought a few choice epithets for Rogers as he raised his voice even louder. “I'm afraid there's been a miscommunication. I'm the Mayor of Aspen Hill, and I was told nothing of any refugees being sent to us.”
There were murmurs of dismay and the beginnings of irritation from the refugees. They'd come a long way with no supplies, and had been depending on finding a welcoming refuge at the end of their hike. �
��If you didn't know we were coming how did you have an army ready for us?” the self-appointed spokesman demanded suspiciously.
Matt shrugged and told the truth. “Good lookouts and being prepared to respond quickly.”
There wasn't much the man could say to that, and most of the bluster went out of him. “So what now?” he asked.
Matt took a breath. “Aspen Hill doesn't have the resources to take you in, or even provide you with food to help you get back to the refugee camp.” He was about to add “I'm sorry” and forcefully restrained himself.
Catherine had made it pretty clear that in a leadership position he should never use that term in commiseration or to empathize, since it could too easily be received as an admission of guilt or liability. Unless he, and by association the town he represented, had actually done something he needed to apologize for, those words should never leave his mouth.
Besides, there were other ways to express commiseration. “You have our deepest sympathy for your situation, and our prayers go with you. But the mistake was on the military's end and they'll have to fix it. We've already radioed them and let them know of your situation so they can send help, which will hopefully be quick in coming. Until then I suggest you turn around and start back.”
“How?” another man demanded angrily. “We were told it was going to be less than a day's hike to where we were going, and help would be waiting for us. It's going to be dark soon and we have barely any tents and no food. Some of us don't even have blankets or sleeping bags, or even warm clothing. We could freeze to death out here!”
Every instinct screamed for Matt to again sympathize but remain firm. He thought a few more curses Roger's way, hoping the man saw some reckoning for this. “Give me a second,” he called. It didn't feel good to turn his back on so many angry men, but he tried to keep his posture confident as he started back up the hill to confer with the town leaders.
There weren't many of the main ones here. Chauncey was back in town, Lucas, Ben, and Scott were out trying to get help from Colonel Grimes, which was all the more important. But Catherine, Carol Clarkson, Tam Raymond, and Terry were all there. He gathered them around, along with Lewis, Trev, Rick, and Gutierrez, and presented the plight of the refugees.
Catherine immediately shook her head. “The town's problems with refugees just after the Gulf burned started when we gave them water and weren't strict enough about insisting they leave. Any gesture we make here could become an excuse for them to hang around and cause problems. We could have a dozen more Razors to deal with if we're not careful.”
Terry cut in equally vehemently. “This isn't just about perception. It doesn't have to be too cold before you need to start worrying about hypothermia, and at this time of year up here in the mountains at night we're well past that point, and probably would be even without the nuclear winter effect. If those men are forced to camp right here on the road with inadequate shelter people could die.”
The former Mayor shrugged grimly. “Everything's a matter of life and death these days. They can huddle together for warmth and share whatever tents and blankets they have. It's not ideal, but we cannot let them think they'll get anything from us. We need them to turn around and leave, the sooner the better. Our responsibility is to the town.”
Matt again had a new appreciation for Anderson, who'd called Trev and Lewis unChristian for insisting they couldn't afford to share any food with the refugees last fall. The cousins had been right, but even so it was a painful decision to make.
Where was the line when you refused a helping hand to a fellow human being due to self interest? For some there was no line, they wouldn't do it ever, and those people were usually held in contempt. Then again, those who gave everything they had tended to quickly become in desperate need of help themselves, and did little good for the world.
What a mess. He could see why Catherine had finally stepped down from this position, after so long buckling under the burden of carrying all the responsibility for the town and making these sorts of no-win decisions.
“How about fires?” he asked. “We've got plenty of people with hatchets and even a few axes, and we've got more than enough helping hands to gather deadfall. We can at least make sure they have as comfortable a night as possible under the circumstances, and we wouldn't be giving them anything but our time.”
Everyone was nodding thoughtfully, but it was obvious Catherine didn't like even that. “I think it'll still give them the wrong message about leaving.”
Matt bit back a sigh. “From the looks of things we're probably going to all have to camp here ourselves to keep an eye on them and make sure they leave in the morning. We can be kind tonight, and stern tomorrow.”
Trev nodded. “I like it. Sort of a “we did what we could to help you, but now look at all these guns and see we mean business, so please go back the way you came.”
“Besides,” Lewis added. “If we handle this right it'll make us look better than if we turned them away completely. Even if we're in the right we still have to consider how everyone else will view us. Moral considerations aside, if some of the refugees died of the cold people would probably lay the blame on us instead of on Rogers.”
That was a good point, even if Matt didn't like the pragmatism. He wanted to do things because they were right, not because of public image. Still, having that be a side benefit of kindness couldn't be a bad thing. “All right, it looks like we're having a campout.” He turned and started back towards the refugees.
* * * * *
They spent the hours until full dark setting up camps. The refugees complained, some of them bitterly, about the situation in general as well as the reception they'd received from Aspen Hill. Trev thought most of that was shattered hope, likely even more crushing after the year these men had to have been through.
The townspeople set up their tents on the ridge right where they were. It was uncomfortable with the elevation and no shelter from the wind blowing almost constantly from the northwest, but it gave them a good defensive position over the refugees setting up on the road below. Trev approved Matt's decision.
Most of the time was spent gathering firewood and setting up fires. Nobody from Aspen Hill wanted to risk going in among the refugees, even in large groups, so they simply deposited enough firewood to accommodate a thousand men at the edge of the ramshackle camp, along with precious matches and other firestarting tools.
The refugees begged, whined, demanded, and even threatened for food and other supplies from the townspeople, but everything they said was met with polite refusal and a not so subtle display of enough firepower to gun them all down where they stood, if things turned violent. Eventually the ragged men resigned themselves to their situation and did their best to set up camp with what they had.
Trev couldn't help but notice that the refugees built massive fires, which wasn't a huge problem since they'd been given plenty of wood. Still, he couldn't help but think of that old quote he'd heard so often on camping trips as a kid, the one about building large fires. With so little camping gear the refugees might've been better off huddling close to small fires, rather than sitting several feet away from a bonfire getting broiled in front with their backs to the frigid night air.
He set a strong watch around both camps that night, ensuring dozens of his people got poor sleep but they would all be forewarned if anything happened. Although he didn't consider the refugees enemies and had no desire for violence, hard experience had made him cautious.
Luckily the night passed uneventfully, aside from sentries and even people who'd been in sleeping bags in their tents all night complaining about the cold wind the next morning. With his better gear Trev had barely even noticed while sleeping, although since he'd taken a watch he could definitely sympathize.
As planned, as soon as the sun started warming things up Matt had everyone gather up in their lines again, and he came down to politely but firmly insist that it was time for the refugees to turn back for the camp.
There was a lot of grumbling from the ragged men at that, and more than a few curses and angry shouts. But the truth was that the refugees were hungry and only going to get hungrier, and with it clear they wouldn't be getting anything from Aspen Hill most reluctantly started back down the road.
A few groups broke off and disappeared into the surrounding countryside, though. Either they didn't think they'd be welcome back in camp, or they thought they had good enough supplies to strike off on their own. That seemed like a recipe for potential banditry, and anyway the men might've had more nefarious reasons for heading off into the hills, so as Matt got the townspeople ready to return home Trev had a team of volunteers follow each group. He also split more defenders off to jog home at a faster pace and start patrolling the area around Aspen Hill. Last of all he assigned Trent to take twenty people and shadow the refugees to make sure they kept going back to Rogers's camp, or report in if any of them did anything else.
Just before they left Lewis approached him and Matt, his expression suggesting he'd thought of something. “What is it?” Trev asked.
His cousin gave him a serious look. “I'd like to head to the refugee camp and see what I can learn there.”
That got their attention. “Are you crazy?” Matt demanded. “If Rogers's people find out you're from Aspen Hill they'll arrest you.”
Trev agreed with the risk, although he could also see the merits of the idea. “Sounds good. Let's get a team together and we'll go.”
Lewis shook his head. “I'd prefer to go alone. More people means more attention, and Matt's right that it's dangerous. I'll be more comfortable if I only have myself to worry about.” Before Trev could feel insulted by that his cousin continued. “Besides, you've got to focus on the town's defenses.”
Matt nodded and gave Trev a stern look. “In town, by the way,” he added. “I don't know what's going on with you, but no more being out on patrols and leaving a leadership gap during a crisis.”
