by Nathan Jones
Trev felt his face flush. He and Deb had been going out of their way to be where the other wasn't since agreeing to take some time apart. Including, he guessed, her staying back in town to protect it while he was out here.
Still, his friend was right that he'd dropped the ball when it came to the sudden appearance of these refugees. He should've been there helping organize the townspeople to come out and meet the approaching mob in force. Gutierrez had done a good job, but it was a job he shouldn't have had to do in the first place. “Right.”
Lewis cut in. “I'll be going, then. I'd like to hurry, get around the refugees and get to the camp before them.”
Trev reluctantly nodded. “You sure you want to go alone? Not even someone to hang around outside the camp as backup in case something goes wrong?”
His cousin shook his head. “Things would be just as likely to go wrong for him as for me. Nah, I'll be fine.”
Matt clapped Lewis on the shoulder. “Be careful, then. And if you can try to keep your eye out for any information Chauncey or your dad could use to help our cause, over the radio or with Grimes.”
Lewis patted his pocket. “I brought my phone to record this confrontation, in case we need to prove we aren't at fault. I'll see if I can get us something.”
Trev couldn't believe his cousin had thought of that in all the confusion. And yet it was the sort of thing that could really save their bacon if the town was accused of misconduct.
The low tech existence they currently lived in made those sorts of precautions difficult, but he determined to charge his own phone, currently gathering dust in a plastic bin with so many of the family's other high-tech relics of the past, and have it handy for the same reason. He'd also get more of the defenders to do the same.
After some hasty goodbyes from Gutierrez, Rick, and a few others Lewis clapped Trev on the upper arm. “Let Jane know I'll be home by tomorrow morning if I can manage it.” With no more than that he turned and trotted off down the ridge, taking a path that would let him swing wide around the departing refugees below.
Trev joined the remaining townspeople in heading back, feeling a sense of foreboding. He had a lot of people out tracking a lot of potential problems, and there was plenty of danger to them if they encountered those problems. His defenders were careful, and he'd instructed them to make getting away safely and reporting in a priority, but he still worried for them.
He hoped they'd all be careful, Lewis included. Although if there was one thing he could trust, it was that his cousin was always cautious.
* * * * *
One person could travel faster than a thousand people on foot at the best of times, and in the shape Lewis was in he had no trouble reaching Rogers's camp hours ahead of the refugees.
Even getting in without attracting notice from the soldiers guarding the camp and keeping the peace wasn't especially difficult, since there were plenty of people coming and going on various tasks, or arriving from elsewhere seeking aid and refuge. It took Lewis less than a half hour to join up with a group of foragers gathering grass for some purpose, maybe to make mattresses or comforters, and return to camp with them chatting about mundane complaints like hunger and aches and pains.
Once inside the maze of poorly organized tents he drifted around to various groups of residents, sharing news of the outside world or even strips of venison jerky from his pack, as long as it got people talking about events closer to home.
A lot of what he picked up he already knew, from what Chauncey had relayed over the radio as well as what Dr. Langstrom, Robert, Hailey, and the other recruits had told him of their situation in camp. Resources were tight, freedom was restricted, and people were getting restless. Crime was running rampant and increasing in severity, there were frequent protests, all of which were ignored or suppressed, and there'd even been a few minor riots.
Nobody seemed to think Rogers was doing a good job, there was a great deal of resentment towards his soldiers, and more than a few people had already left in search of better camps, or even to strike out on their own. Basically anyone who'd already had the possessions and supplies were bailing, leaving only the most desperate and downtrodden behind.
The camp was quickly becoming a slum of the worst kind.
It took Lewis a while to hear anything about the thousand refugees Rogers had sent to Aspen Hill, and when he finally did it was indirectly. A snippet from an elderly woman gnawing on a piece of his jerky, information she tossed out while giving other news, about how Rogers rounding up the camp's malcontents didn't seem to have stopped the rising crime rates.
He politely interrupted the woman before she could move on to the state of the camp's cooking. “He rounded up malcontents? Like protestors?”
She sniffed. “Protestors, petty thieves, rioters, and the sort of scum guilty of more serious crimes like attempting or even carrying out assault with deadly weapons, rape, and murder. Sent them all packing off east somewhere yesterday morning. None too soon, if you ask me, after he ignored what they were doing for so long even when we begged him to intervene. Not that it seems to be helping, since my friend's daughter had her coat stolen this morning. The thug took it right off her back, said all sorts of terrible things about her to his friends while he did it, too. Poor girl's lucky they didn't do worse.”
“Terrible,” Lewis agreed sincerely, although inwardly he was steaming. He hadn't expected Rogers to send pillars of the community Aspen Hill's way, but that's who he'd sent? Trying to kill two birds with one stone by reducing crime and unrest in his camp, and at the same time paying back the town full of people who'd challenged his authority by sending criminals their way?
Granted, most of the refugees were probably just desperate or frustrated, but if the major had really sent dangerous men along with the others, giving them a new place to prey upon victims, it went beyond unconscionable to outright evil.
Well whatever the camp coordinator had intended to happen, his plan had failed. Before too long all those refugees would be returning here and they'd be Rogers's problem once again. Lewis sincerely felt for this woman, her family, and all the other innocents in camp who would once again be dealing with this. But he'd feel even worse if those problems had moved to Aspen Hill.
They'd faced enough trouble of that sort since the Gulf burned.
Over the next few hours he picked up plenty of useful information about the state of the camp, the disposition of Rogers and his soldiers, and even news about other camps and the world at large. He didn't dare talk to any soldiers to see what they knew, and he wasn't stupid enough to poke around in their barracks or headquarters tent in search of damning paperwork. There were no real trade opportunities here, even if he thought he could've snuck any deals past guards hostile to Aspen Hill, so all that was left to do was wait for the refugee men to arrive and see how they reported what had happened and how Rogers handled their return.
Lewis started drifting towards the eastern edge of camp, looking for signs of the large group of ragged men on the horizon. If nothing else it let him take his eyes off the squalor and suffering around him, which was a depressing sight. If the camp coordinator was mismanaging things this badly now, he shuddered to think how they'd fare when winter blew in.
The outcast refugees took even longer than he'd expected, likely due to exhaustion and depravation. The first thing Lewis noticed when they appeared along the road was that there were far fewer of them than there had been when he'd passed them this morning. Less than five hundred, at a quick count. He knew a hundred or so had split off to go their own way before the others had even left to return to the camp, and during the trip back it looked like more had made the same decision.
A lot more. He couldn't see how that many people dispersed throughout the area wouldn't be a huge problem for Aspen Hill and everyone else living within ten miles, including Rogers and his refugee camp. Travelers might be attacked, as well as foragers and hunters from the nearby towns and camps, and even isolated homes and smaller settlements might find th
emselves in danger.
And all for what? Because some town that hadn't done anything to him refused to let him steal their food or dump more mouths to feed on them? For all the evil he'd done Ferris had simply been greedy, certain of his superiority, and completely lacking a conscience. On the other hand Rogers was looking more and more insane by the day, and to make it worse he wielded far more power than the FETF administrator ever had.
Either that or Rogers was getting desperate watching his camp fall apart, and in his flailing around grasped at solutions that only made things worse. Whatever the camp coordinator's problem was, he needed to be relieved of command for what he was doing. Better yet court-martialed.
The second thing Lewis noticed was, if anything, even more alarming. Soldiers were mobilizing from the camp to drive out and meet the refugees, and it didn't look like a welcoming party.
Sure enough, Rogers's men stopped their trucks across the road in an obvious roadblock, taking cover behind them with weapons held ready to bring to bear on the approaching men, who stopped and stared in dismay and growing despair.
Lewis was too far away to hear what the soldiers told the refugees, but the end result had many of the men slumping in defeated exhaustion right there on the road, ignoring the shouts and threats trying to chivvy them back away from the camp while those refugees who still had some energy turned and shuffled back eastward.
It was hard not to feel profound sympathy for those men, even knowing that many of them were criminals and malcontents. He doubted more than a few had done enough to deserve such a fate, and none had been afforded due process or other consideration.
Incredibly, once the soldiers had turned the refugees away they piled into their trucks and drove back into camp. As if they seriously expected a bunch of starving, desperate men to turn around and walk off without causing any trouble, just because they asked them to. Either that or they didn't care either way.
Rogers sure ran a tight ship.
Of course the ragged men did turn around and leave, even the ones slumped down on the road finally pulling themselves to their feet and shuffling off. But over the next half hour Lewis watched dozens of them sneak into camp. Lewis somehow doubted they planned to just go back to being docile residents after the way they'd been treated, either; Rogers had likely just turned most if not all of those returning into violent troublemakers, where before only a handful had been.
What was even more worrisome was the fact that it was only dozens, instead of the hundreds who'd been turned away. That meant there were now even more people out there unaccounted for, disenfranchised and starving, and each one was potentially a danger to Aspen Hill. To his friends and family.
And that was unacceptable.
Lewis left under the cover of darkness, using his night vision gear to easily avoid the camp guards and the few scattered campsites, one of them large enough to hold at least fifty men, as he sought out Trent's group who'd been tailing the refugees. He wanted to avoid using his radio unless he had to, so he wouldn't draw attention from the camp. Luckily it only took a bit of searching to find the Aspen Hill group making their way home, well off the road.
After briefly sharing reports they made for the road and, with Lewis in the lead guiding them through the darkness, started east at a jog. In spite of weariness and lack of ideal traveling conditions they all agreed that they wanted to get home that night if they could, rather than having to set up camp again.
Lewis was reasonably satisfied with his information gathering. His phone carried dozens of pictures and a few snippets of video and conversations relevant to what was going on. Enough to support his findings and possibly even strong enough to be presented as evidence; although most of the audio was hearsay, the video of the soldiers turning away the returning refugees was hard to dispute.
Assuming they managed to find someone willing and able to do something before the whole area collapsed into chaos.
Chapter Eleven
Downward Spiral
Ed Larson jumped off his cot as a large man wearing sergeant's stripes, flanked by two enlisted soldiers holding rifles, stormed into the barrack tent and made a beeline for him.
“Is there some-” Ed started to ask.
“Where's the rest of your group?” the sergeant snarled.
The tone combined with the aggressive approach and armed escort threw Ed off, and it took him several seconds to stammer out an answer. “Th-they're out in camp.”
“Get them!” the big man roared. “You have five minutes.” Rather than storming off, he motioned to his soldiers to take up a position at the tent's entrance and plopped down on a nearby cot glowering at Ed, clearly waiting for him to comply.
Ed retrieved his radio with a shaking hand. It was tuned to one of the civilian frequencies approved by the military, of which they had their pick since very few other people had working radios to communicate with aside from the military and those working for them, who also used their own frequencies. It was likely someone was listening in on all radio communication, but that didn't matter since they only used them to check in on each other.
“Aspen Hill delegation,” he said, aware of how stilted and formal his voice sounded, “we've been called in to speak to-” he hesitated, taking his thumb off the transmit button as he glanced at the sergeant. “Colonel Grimes?”
“Right,” the man growled.
Ed pressed the button again. “-to Colonel Grimes. He wants to see us immediately.”
Lucas's voice came over the radio loud and clear. “Copy that. Me and Carrie are on our way.” Moments later Scott and Ben confirmed they would be there soon as well.
Although they'd agreed to take shifts Ed was usually the one who found himself here in camp. He wasn't sure what the others had got up to in the six days they'd been cooling their heels waiting for Grimes to call them in, but from the sounds of it they'd been reasonably productive in negotiating trades, making friends, and gathering news.
As for the situation in Aspen Hill, they'd heard some chatter over the radio yesterday that might've been about their town, but hadn't been able to get in touch with Chauncey or anyone else from Aspen Hill to find out what was happening.
If this irate sergeant and the abrupt summons from Grimes was any indication, Ed wasn't expecting to get any good news about home.
It took closer to ten minutes for everyone to get back to the barrack, and the sergeant was clearly irritated at that. He'd apparently meant his five minute deadline, unreasonable as it was. As soon as Lucas and Carrie showed up the noncom and his two enlisted escorts hurried them all to the headquarters building and inside. Once inside he rushed them through rooms full of curious people and through the waiting room directly into the colonel's office, barely even pausing to announce their arrival.
Grimes was waiting for them, expression grim. “Gentlemen, ma'am,” he said, rising from his seat to stand behind his desk. “Please, have a seat.”
Somehow the fact that he was inviting them to sit this time, when he'd had them stand during their first visit when he was more kindly disposed towards them, seemed like a bad sign. Ed nervously joined the others in taking seats. After a short, tense silence Lucas opened his mouth, at which point the colonel talked over him.
“It seems as if it's not only soldiers attempting to carry out their duty that your town likes pointing guns at. They also enjoy menacing unarmed refugees.”
The silence took on a more blank, confused air. “Beg pardon, Colonel?” Scott finally said.
Grimes turned his glare on the man, who hunched slightly. “Yesterday,” the senior officer snapped. “A mob of thugs from Aspen Hill numbering in the hundreds, all heavily armed and geared for a fight, waylaid a refugee convoy on the road.”
Another bewildered silence. “That seems . . . unlikely,” Lucas said carefully.
“As in you think if it came from Major Rogers it's a lie?” The colonel was visibly trying to control his anger. “I have reports from two different patrols as well,
who intercepted scattered groups of refugees all attesting to being turned back from coming near Aspen Hill as if they were common criminals. An action your town does not have the authority to take.”
Ed frowned, from more than just surprise and dismay. Something was definitely going on, and obviously his town was involved. But a lot of facts were also being left off the table, either because Grimes wasn't aware of them or for some other reason.
“If I could ask,” he said into the silence. “Would you say this is now justification for personally taking a closer look at the situation, or at least sending someone who will?”
It was his turn to take the brunt of the colonel's glare. “The situation seems pretty clear to me. At best you people are paranoid nutjobs using excessive force in situations that don't warrant it, and you seem to be engaged in suspicious activities as well. This mess with the refugees crosses too far over the line. My job is to keep the roads safe for travelers and allow free passage through all areas in this territory. Anyone getting in the way of that is going to have a problem with me.”
“I can assure you, Colonel, there's a reasonable explanation for what happened,” Lucas said stiffly.
Grimes whirled on him. “Oh? Have you been in contact with your town and heard their side of it, then?”
Lucas hesitated. “Well no,” he admitted. “But this isn't the way our people behave.”
The senior officer slammed his hands down on the table in disgust. “You're going to have to do better than that, Mr. Halsson. We've got a serious situation that seems to be spiraling out of control, and your town is at the center of it. Now I'm going to give you enough fuel to get home, and I suggest you take it and go get your house in order. My people will be along soon to make sure you are.”
There was an uncomfortable silence as they all stared at him in helpless frustration. “With all due respect,” Ben finally said, “maybe you should take your own advice when it comes to Major Rogers.”
Grimes abruptly stood and loomed over his desk, expression darkening. “I don't need you to tell me how to do my job. You better believe the next time I hear word of your town restricting the right of travel of US citizens, I'll send a battalion in to level the place. Now get out.”
