by Nathan Jones
His first view of Newtown was a bit of a surprise, although maybe it shouldn't have been. It looked as if a whirlwind had torn through the town while he'd been gone, with a chaotic jumble of items strewn around where the townspeople had emptied their shanties and crudely built homes of any possessions small enough to take with them, or necessary enough to be worth the extra effort.
The Newtown General Store looked as if it had been completely stripped of its goods, anything useful taken away and everything else tossed in a pile in front with people poking through the rubbish searching for whatever had been overlooked that might be worth taking. And the large silos looming over the town were swarming with figures that looked tiny in comparison, who seemed to be emptying out the grain into sacks and other containers to take with them.
None of that was unexpected. Vernon bailing on his own people would paint a pretty clear picture of just how much danger the town was in, so it figured that the townspeople would be preparing to evacuate.
What was unexpected was that the people of Newtown were loading their possessions into dozens of handcarts, which looked as if they'd been crudely built from car trailers or from the chassis of stripped vehicles to make crude wagons.
Trev hadn't seen any of these carts and wagons the last time he'd been here, but it could be they'd been available and he just hadn't been looking. After all, a town that was setting itself up as a trading post and offering tons of grain for sale would want to have a way for customers to haul their purchases away in a world where fuel was scarce to the point of nonexistence. He could actually admire the ingenuity required to get good use out of useless cars and trucks.
To his delight, his family had managed to purchase two of those makeshift handcarts for themselves, along with two smaller wagons. He found them waiting in the parking lot of the General Store, organizing a few last things in the carts. From the looks of it they'd managed to purchase more wheat, at least as much as they could carry, along with a few tarps to protect the sacks from the elements.
Lucas winced when he saw Trev limping into the parking lot. “Ouch. I didn't stop to think how much all that stuff weighed. I should've gone with you.”
“It's okay,” Trev said, wearily letting the pack slide off his shoulders to lean against the cart. He could probably lift it up inside, but he really didn't want to go to the effort at the moment. Instead he leaned against the makeshift aluminum siding of the cart and rubbed at his left shoulder.
“It's not okay,” Linda protested. “We need you able to push a cart!”
Trev couldn't help but shoot his sister a dirty look. It was true, sure, but she could've put it more tactfully after he'd just got finished lugging almost a hundred pounds for 10 miles. “All by myself, huh? What do those weigh, a thousand pounds each?”
“Just with the wheat alone,” his dad confirmed.
Trev winced. The carts had been cleverly made but they still looked fairly heavy. Which meant all told they'd be lucky if two people could manage one for any amount of time, and it would probably require at least three people. Meanwhile the smaller wagons weren't nearly as large or sturdily built as Lewis's, and were each holding 4 sacks of wheat or 200lbs. That weight wouldn't be terrific to haul, but compared to the carts he could almost envy whoever had the job.
Eight people should be enough to manage all that, barely, although they wouldn't be able to rotate out anyone for rests and would all have to take more breaks. But even if it was doable Trev didn't look forward to the grind.
Going on paved, mostly level roads would help with that a lot, but he remembered how difficult the trip up to the hideout had been and couldn't hope that good roads would be enough to make the difference. None of his family were used to walking long distances or hauling heavy loads the way he was, and while they'd adjust in time the first days were going to be brutal.
Still, there was no time like the present to get to it. Trev groaned slightly as he grabbed the makeshift pack he'd lugged all this way and heaved it up onto the cart. “Okay. Let's get going.”
“It's not a race,” his mom said, half stern and half concerned. “We've got a long way to go and you look like you can barely stand.” She handed him a strip of jerky, which must've been hard to trade for with the entire town packing up to move, as well as another water bottle.
Trev knew that. He'd already learned the lesson about not pushing himself numerous times, he just hadn't been thinking clearly since Vernon took the truck. So he accepted the food and sat down against the rubber tire of the cart to get what rest he could as his family continued with the final preparations.
While he was eating a small group of townspeople approached them, including Clara and Deb. “We're getting the caravan together,” the man in the lead called as they closed the final ten yards. “We just wanted to know if you'd be joining us.”
His parents and aunt and uncle stepped forward to meet them halfway. “Depends on where you're headed,” Lucas replied.
The man grimaced. “South. Not following Vernon, though . . . wouldn't mind it if I never saw that guy again. But he was at least right that the blockheads are coming from the north.”
“We're heading west,” Trev's mom said. “We've got family to get to. Although I suppose if any of your people are planning on going that way we'd be happy to travel with them.”
The man glanced back at his neighbors questioningly, then shrugged. “Haven't heard of anyone. I think most of us are going to stick together if we can. Safety in numbers, and even if Vernon tarnished Newtown's reputation I'd still say we've got a good community. One worth keeping together. If anyone is headed west we'll send them your way.”
There were handshakes all around. “I hope you manage to find a safe place to rebuild,” Trev's dad said by way of farewell. “Thank you for your kindness and generosity.”
The town's spokesman grimaced again. “It's an unpleasant situation all around, but you folks seem decent enough. I'm sorry you got dragged into all this, especially when you gave us your trust.”
* * * * *
Fifteen minutes later the family set out, dispirited but determined.
Trev and Jim started out pulling one handcart, aided by Linda pushing from behind, while his dad and uncle hauled the other with Mary pushing from behind and his mom and aunt did their best with the wagons.
It was a somewhat imbalanced setup, skewed on the idea that Trev was the strongest and had the best endurance out of the group and needed to handle more of the load. His two siblings gave it all they had, but they weren't quite strong enough to make up the difference and Trev ended up with a lot of the weight. That was something he was willing to handle, but it meant that in spite of the help the job was far more difficult than even towing Lewis's wagon last fall had been.
Unfortunately it was just as difficult for the rest of his family, meaning their progress was slow and painful even starting out.
Trev learned from Jim and Linda as they went that there'd been a fierce debate among their family about whether to go for the handcarts or purchase bicycles. Newtown had enough decent ones for their family to ride, but doing so would've meant leaving behind just about everything since no bicycle trailers were available and Vernon had taken all the store's backpacks. It would be a faster trip, but in many ways a more difficult one.
In spite of that Lucas had argued for the bikes. If the rumors they'd heard in Newtown were true then the surviving Gold Bloc forces were pushing southwestwards hard behind them, trampling the fleeing internment camp prisoners in their path as they rushed to capture objectives before any sort of resistance to their invasion could be mounted.
Their uncle didn't want to be stuck on the road pulling wagons with the idea of enemy soldiers close behind, which is why he'd pushed for the bicycles. Even though they couldn't outrun trucks, at least they gave enough speed to possibly outrun an army that had to deal with complex logistics.
Mary and Jim agreed with him, while Trev's dad was on the fence. But his mom and aunt
insisted that they'd have a tough time of things if they arrived in Aspen Hill with no food, and if the town was already suffering then at best they couldn't expect any help, and at worst they'd be an added burden. Besides, they'd already purchased the supplies Vernon had left them with and it would be a waste to leave them all behind.
Linda agreed with them, and also argued that with so many bikes something could go wrong with one, which would make the rest useless since they could only go as fast as the slowest person in the group. Everyone who supported going on foot could also point out that ultimately they'd already sacrificed speed by losing the truck trying to get these supplies, and it didn't make any sense to abandon that purpose now when the handcarts were available.
Eventually the rest of the family came around to the position of going on foot. The time they'd made in the truck had put a healthy buffer between them and the chaos behind them, and even Lucas admitted that the Gold Bloc soldiers would be dramatically slowed down if they tried to take and hold territory as they went, no matter how they rushed to take things quickly. As long as the family pushed hard every day they should be able to get to Aspen Hill long before there was any danger from the enemy behind them.
Trev was kind of irked that he hadn't had a say in the decision, especially since he probably would've voted on the side of taking bikes. But the family had needed to decide on something and he wasn't around, so they'd picked the best choice they could.
Now, watching their maddeningly slow progress as they reached Highway 23 and started west, he saw even more confirmation that they should've gone with the other option. At least to his mind, although it seemed like the realization of just what they had in store for them sinking in on the faces of his loved ones as well. They had an almost unfathomably long distance to go like this, and while they might get stronger as time went on they also had to worry about possible injuries or illness that would slow them down. Not to mention sheer exhaustion.
It would be pointless to say he'd told them so when he hadn't had a say in the matter at all, even though he was the only one with any real experience going on difficult journeys with bikes and on foot hauling wagons. With the decision already made throwing in his opinion now would just make everyone more miserable. All he could do was shoulder his burden and do his best to keep everyone's spirits up as he got them physically and mentally prepared for a long, long trip.
At the very least he could estimate that in the month and a half or so it would take them to get home at this pace they'd only eat through a quarter of their 2,400 pounds of wheat, leaving them with roughly 1,800 if all went well. They'd have to work much, much harder to get that food home, but once they did they'd be in a better position than if they'd made the journey on bikes with nothing at all.
He just hoped Aspen Hill didn't desperately need them for something before then, and the pursuing Gold Bloc troops really were so bogged down by their conquests that they didn't have time to trawl smaller roads out in the middle of nowhere.
But it was pointless to worry about anything but the trip ahead, so he positioned his right shoulder more firmly on the pushbar and continued on, each laborious step taking him and his family closer to home and safety.
Chapter Three
Meadows
It was Lewis's idea to go out the third day after the Retaliation.
He and Jane were more rested than they'd been in over a month. The evening they'd spent with Matt and Sam had turned into binge watching movies until he and Jane both fell asleep on their beanbag chair and, he assumed, his friends shut everything down and headed off to bed themselves.
Knowing that they didn't have to worry about a patrol anytime soon had led to a surprisingly restful night, where he slept far longer than he usually would have, and when he woke up in the morning he found Jane going over her gear and happily joined her doing the necessary repairs and maintenance on his own, a much more thorough job than he'd been able to do for a while.
That was just the beginning of the day, since being free from patrols didn't mean that there weren't still plenty of things to do. Stuff they hadn't been able to give their full attention to before now, since most of their time had been spent sleeping or walking their routes outside of town.
The gardens needed work, and looking after the traps while they were there, and they had the rabbit hutch to work on and hunting that could be done. There was also plenty still to do to make the shed a bit more comfortable and secure to live in. And while they were at it, it couldn't hurt to think about building a new structure to relieve the crowded conditions inside the shelter itself. Matt's family and Jane's group were enduring the situation with good grace, but there were definitely no objections to the idea of expanding the living space.
And it would be nice to spend more personal time with his wife without feeling like it was being stolen from more pressing issues. He cherished the time they spent patrolling together but it wasn't exactly restful or relaxing. The previous night had been a nice change from that, definitely something he could get used to.
If nothing else he had his radio and current events to keep up on, although that was a depressing way to spend the time these days. Or he could delve into his hard drives for a book to read or listen to.
All of that was far too much to do in one day, and a lot of it would require ongoing effort. But he'd gotten a good start on it, enough that he felt a bit more comfortable setting everything aside for a full day to do something else. Something he and Jane had both been wanting to do, and now that they had time to work with they agreed to give it a try.
So after another full night of sleep they got up early, collected the bicycles he'd purchased from the storehouse as part of his payment for the cache he and Trev had sold to the town, lightly packed only the most necessary gear for a short trip, and got ready to head up Aspen Hill Canyon.
There were plenty of reasons to go. They wanted to look for good hunting spots, they wanted to do some more long range and thorough scouting above the town for things they and the townspeople would find useful or might be a threat, and most of all they wanted to venture farther afield and find the Norman family's lost herd of sheep, which seemed to have disappeared after the raiders scared them off.
The plan was to travel light and put some real miles behind them, exploring the smaller backroads in the mountains west of town. If the snow had cleared off the higher roads they might even try traveling all the way to Highway 31 to check on the hideout, with the plan of returning to live there again at some future point if necessary.
Jane really liked the idea of wintering there after hearing him describe his time spent in the mountains with Trev. And much as Lewis loved his cousin and enjoyed his company, he had to admit that the prospect of spending the frigid months confined in that small space with his wife instead was a lot more appealing.
Finding the sheep was the main priority for this trip, though. The herd had a big head start on the people searching for them, and had likely retreated up to familiar grazing grounds in the high mountains to escape whatever fright had accompanied the violent capture of their shepherds. No one knew exactly where those grazing grounds were, but Lewis knew the area fairly well and had some ideas.
Now that he and Jane had the free time and some bicycles they wanted to check those spots out.
They invited Pete Childress to come as well, since the young man had devoted so much time to finding the lost animals after they'd beaten the raiders, and Tom Harding and his son Alvin were familiar companions from other hunting trips and seemed happy to come along. They also invited Matt, half expecting their overworked and overburdened friend to refuse, but surprisingly Matt almost ran to retrieve his old bike from the shed at his family's house and get it working.
Lewis could tell by Sam's obvious disappointment that she wanted to go, too, but they were going to be pushing themselves hard to cover ground and he wanted to spare her that in her condition. Not to mention there was no telling what sort of work they had to look forwar
d to if they actually found the herd, facing the prospect of bringing it back down the canyon.
Which was all rational, but Lewis was still relieved when Sam took the news with good grace, admitting that she really was feeling too tired to be biking dozens of miles up steep mountain switchbacks. She assured them she was happy to keep to her original plan for the day, getting the new hens and rooster they were getting from Jack Dawson settled in with Henrietta in the chicken coop Lewis and Matt had finished the day before yesterday.
The group set out not long after breakfast, the reminder of their dwindling food stores serving as an incentive to get something done today. Almost immediately Pete rode ahead and set the pace up the canyon, determined to find the animals that had eluded him for so long. He was familiar enough on his bike that he spent almost as much time waiting for them to catch up as he did making his way up the steep winding road.
Lewis considered himself in the best shape of his life in spite of lingering weariness and slight malnutrition, but even he found the pace brutal. As for Tom, the older man was looking gray in the face by the time they reached the top, and from Matt's frequent concerned glances it was obvious his friend was on the verge of telling him to turn back.
“Maybe we should slow down,” Lewis suggested as they took a breather and admired the view. He didn't do it completely for Tom's sake, but because they were well away from Aspen Hill now and needed to spend a bit more time searching the area. Not only for possible threats but also for anything the town could find useful. Scouting was one of their goals up here, after all, and that was hard to do while zipping around on a bike.
Pete didn't seem happy about the suggestion, although he stuck with the group when they set out again. At least until they reached the first fork in the road, where he pulled off and stopped several feet along the dirt path that branched off to the left.
