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Reclamation (Best Laid Plans Book 4)

Page 18

by Nathan Jones


  “Seriously though,” Williams said in a low voice. “Your town has a lot more in the way of armaments than it should. If all your defenders have that kind of gear then you're better equipped than half the remaining companies in the US military.”

  Trev had a sudden uneasy thought. “You're not going to try to confiscate anything, are you?”

  The corporal hesitated. “I'll admit, the idea of civilians holding that kind of firepower gives me the heebie jeebies. But at the same time the last thing we need is to antagonize people on our side. Besides, it's usually not a good idea to disarm the people you're trying to convince to fight for you.” He glanced uneasily out the passenger side mirror. “Although we may consider sending a squad to come work with the town to properly, and safely, use what you've got.”

  Yeah, we haven't had the best luck with that in the past, Trev thought to himself. Although he wasn't about to say it out loud.

  True to her word Catherine met them on the steps of town hall, along with what seemed like half the town. Trev hadn't been sure what mood would greet Williams and his squad, although celebration wasn't high on the list all things considered. Wariness, maybe, and suspicion. Possibly even outright hostility.

  Instead the crowd seemed more expectant than anything, waiting passively to see how things played out. That silence stretched on as Trev hopped out of the truck, followed by the corporal, while the other soldiers and his mom and cousin piled out as well.

  He figured introductions were a good first step, so he cleared his throat. “This is Corporal Williams. Corporal, Aspen Hill's Mayor, Catherine Tillman.”

  “Ma'am,” Williams said, nodding. He looked over the crowd, likely noting how many were armed. “I suppose you know why we're here.”

  The Mayor nodded as well. “We've been expecting a visit, or at least radio contact, for a while now.” She turned towards the auditorium beside town hall. “Do you want me to gather everyone so you can speak to them?”

  The corporal shrugged reluctantly. “I suppose. Although it would be more useful to talk to you and any other town leaders.”

  Trev winced slightly. That might be true, but Williams wasn't winning any friends with that attitude.

  Catherine turned to him and he jumped slightly. “Trev, could you show the Corporal and his men to the clinic and find them some food?” She directed her words at the officer as she continued. “It shouldn't be more than a half hour. A chance for you to rest. And of course you're welcome to stay the night.”

  “Thank you, ma'am.” Williams glanced at Trev and nodded, so he started making his way through the crowd to the auditorium as the corporal barked an order and the soldiers all fell in line behind him.

  Trev knew where the communal soup pot was kept boiling, but it turned out he didn't need to go after it because Catherine sent in Scott with a pot and enough paper bowls and plastic spoons to go around. After the Mayor's husband introduced himself and handed out the soup the squad went off on their own to eat, grumbling about the awful taste and watery consistency. They still ate it, though.

  All except Williams, who stayed behind and questioned Trev and Scott about the state of the town. He was willing to answer a few questions about how the military's defense preparations were going, although he was a lot less forthcoming than he could've been and always steered the conversation back to his own topics.

  Before too long Catherine returned and led the soldiers and her husband to the seats set up on the stage. Trev made his way down to the auditorium proper and found his family seated halfway back on the left side. Mary and Lewis had saved him a seat between them, so he edged his way down the row to join them.

  “Where's our stuff?” he whispered at his cousin as Catherine stood and introduced the corporal to those who hadn't been there at his arrival.

  “We took it home then came back as quick as we could,” Lewis replied. “Your bike's sitting out front with ours for when we leave.”

  “What about the bees?”

  “I set them in a quiet place until we have time to take care of them.”

  Trev was going to ask about the honey, but Mary hissed quietly and poked his shoulder. He hastily turned to see Williams approaching the podium.

  The officer didn't say anything for almost a minute, looking around the assembled crowd that packed the auditorium to the rafters. When he did speak, voice booming through the room, it was so abrupt that Trev jumped slightly, and he wasn't the only one.

  “I'm not a salesman,” Williams began in an even tone. “I'm not even a recruiter. I didn't come with a pitch to get you all on board. Frankly, given what we're facing I don't think I should have to convince you of anything. So I'm just going to give you a few facts and let you choose what to do with them.”

  He took a breath. “First off, numbers. Even assuming General Lassiter and General Erikson can gather all the scattered groups of soldiers, law enforcement, and other trained personnel we've contacted, and we can get enough potential recruits from nearby towns, we'll be lucky if we can scrape together a hundred thousand fighters.”

  A low murmur of confusion swept the auditorium, and Trev didn't blame them. That sounded like a huge army.

  At least until the corporal continued. “At our last best estimate, the combined Russian and Chinese armies number over one million professional soldiers. Which means going on numbers alone they have us 10 to 1. Admittedly, they have to worry about defending the territory they've already taken and guarding their supply lines, as well as logistics for moving and supplying so many soldiers. But even so their numerical advantage is going to be very, very difficult to overcome.

  “Now let's talk about equipment. All of our military bases were destroyed, either before or during the Retaliation, by nuclear strikes or more conventional bombing runs. We have a handful of aircraft, most of which are built for hauling cargo or passengers. We have less than two hundred tanks and other heavy armored vehicles.

  “We have the supplies to feed the soldiers we've gathered for a month at half rations. We have less than a million gallons of fuel, which may sound like a lot so I'll put it in context: with what we have we can run all our vehicles continuously for less than three days. We have enough weapons to arm everyone who comes to us, barely, but for ammo we'll be lucky if each soldier has 1,000 rounds apiece. To last however long this war goes on.”

  Williams fell silent to let that sink in, then looked around, meeting the eyes of people in the crowd. Those who didn't look away, at least. “That's all that stands between you and an enemy that's been butchering every American they come across. An enemy vastly superior in numbers, equipment, and with access to at least one relatively stable and intact country for supplies, on top of what they brought with them.

  “So if you'll excuse me, I'm going to go discuss some of the finer details with your Mayor. After we leave I'd like you to think very hard on what you have, what you can contribute, and who of you is willing to stand with us to defend your homes, your loved ones, and give what remains of the United States of America a slightly better chance of surviving.”

  Without another word he made his way over to where Catherine sat and leaned down to speak to her, then made his way off the stage. She gave the townspeople an apologetic look and followed.

  Once she was gone the crowd broke into worried murmurs, the noise level increasing by the second. Thanks to Chauncey those who were interested in knowing already had a general idea of the grim situation, but Williams had definitely painted a pretty clear picture. At Trev's side Mary was humming a depressing song.

  After a minute or so Scott stood and made his way to the podium. “I suppose while we're all gathered we can discuss how the town as a whole is going to respond to this request,” he said. “Strictly volunteer, of course, but it really seems like it's in our best interest to volunteer all we can.”

  Trev immediately stood. “We're going to send people, right?” His question raised a few shouts of agreement and a bit of clapping, but also some uneas
y murmuring.

  The older man frowned. “Do we have anyone we can spare? I'm guessing the only people the military wants is our defenders, and the town can't afford to lose that protection.”

  “If the military is going to be protecting us instead we can probably do without a small army,” Lucas said, speaking up from the row behind Trev.

  Ben spoke up from the other side of the room. “Not to sound selfish, but as far as we're concerned it won't really matter if the military wins against the Gold Bloc if the town doesn't survive the fight. I hate to be the one to bring this up, but we're still losing several people a week to starvation in spite of our best efforts. We have to think of our immediate survival first.”

  A minor commotion broke out as dozens of people spoke up at once, some in agreement and others calling him shortsighted. Trev sat back down, unable to think of anything to add and not sure if he even should. If the military had food he might have argued that every volunteer the town sent would be one less mouth to feed. But the people who could be most useful fighting the Gold Bloc also tended to be the best hunters and foragers, so the town would be losing food in the deal.

  He also had his own personal quandary to deal with. There didn't seem to be any way he could justify not joining up with Lassiter's group to defend his home and loved ones. He'd seen the Gold Bloc firsthand, watched them gunning down defenseless prisoners at the internment camp. Everything he'd heard confirmed that they continued to commit those kinds of atrocities, and he wanted to keep them far, far from Aspen Hill.

  At the same time these last two weeks had been some of the best since the Gulf burned. In some ways better than before. He had his family around him, safe and sound, and they were well on their way to being self-sufficient and surviving the hardships to come. He'd traveled a lot these last several months, by foot, bicycle, and even in vehicles, but everything that had pushed him to leave home was here now.

  He wanted to stay. He wanted to set up the beehive and work in the garden and patrol the town and be with his loved ones. But all the reasons that kept him here pushed him to go, too.

  The hubbub of debate and argument continued for some time, until Scott finally tapped on the mic a few times, filling the auditorium with bursts of feedback. The few strings of Christmas lights hanging overhead actually flickered when he did it, even such a minor thing a strain on the basic system of solar panels and batteries they'd set up.

  That got the crowd's attention. The auditorium fell silent as everyone turned to look at him, and he spoke in a moderate tone. “This is a serious decision, not one you make on the spur of the moment. I would encourage everyone to go home now and think it through overnight. Or even longer, if we're fortunate enough to be given more time to decide.”

  Catherine had appeared on stage as her husband spoke, coming over to stand beside him. When Scott finished she added her own words. “I agree. Corporal Williams's arrival was very sudden, as was his request for aid. We all need time to process it. But for any of you who have decided to contribute something or volunteer, come see me as soon as possible so I can begin making up a list and keeping everything organized.”

  She turned to head back through the center curtains into the clinic, then paused and leaned over the mic again. “Matt, Ben, could you come with me, please? I need your input.”

  * * * * *

  The meeting naturally broke up after that, but a lot of the townspeople stuck around to discuss the night's events or share the news of the wider world they'd missed.

  Some of the family decided to stick around as well, but Trev and Lewis wasted no time leaving the auditorium and grabbing their bikes to pedal fast for home.

  Trev felt bad about leaving the soldiers without even wishing them good night, considering he'd taken on the role of intermediary for himself. But Williams and the town leaders seemed to have things well in hand, and the Mayor hadn't specifically told him to join the town leaders in their discussion.

  Which was a relief, since it would be long past dark before they got their work done and bed was still a ways away for him and his cousin. Attending the meeting had taken a lot of time, and it had interrupted what they'd been doing with the bees.

  The sooner they could get the swarm into their new beehive the better, so that the bees could begin doing their thing. They also needed to squeeze the honey out of the combs and then strain it, and if it was too watery they'd have to take even more steps to prevent it from going bad, then seal it in jars for long term storage. They'd also need to clean the beeswax so it could be made into candles, among other uses.

  In spite of his eagerness for the project up to this point, Trev had trouble drumming up too much enthusiasm as they sped home in the fading light. The hard dose of reality Williams had administered put a damper on everything.

  “So I guess we're back doing this, huh?” Lewis asked, surprising him after the silence had gone on for over a minute.

  Trev blinked and glanced over at his cousin. “What?”

  “Splitting up again. I can't feel right about not going to join the people defending us, leaving them to fight and die to protect us while I stay home safe. Especially if they lose and there's no one left to stop the Gold Bloc from taking over and killing us all.”

  It was a bit surprising to hear that his cousin's thoughts had been following his. Or maybe not so surprising, even down to the fact that Lewis had come to the same conclusion about being the one to volunteer. “And we can't both go because our family is here and one of us should stay behind to watch over them,” Trev concluded.

  “Exactly.” Lewis grimaced. “It's hard to forgive myself for leaving you to take the trip to Michigan alone, especially after everything you went through. So this time I go and you stay.”

  Trev was already shaking his head before his cousin had finished speaking, and he slowed down on his bike so they could have an easier time talking. This wasn't his ideal situation to have this discussion, but it was definitely necessary.

  “You didn't leave me to do anything,” he pointed out as Lewis slowed to match his speed. “I thought we were being rational here.” It was his cousin's turn to look confused, and he continued. “We have to hope that whoever goes is going to survive, but if he doesn't then who would you rather have here looking after everyone?”

  Lewis flinched as if shot. “Trev, don't,” he started, expression miserable.

  Trev continued determinedly. “You've got the knowledge and skills to help everyone build a future. And you've got a wife to think about. You need to be here, which means I need to go.”

  “Jane would go with me. We can handle ourselves.”

  “I know you can. And so can I. This way makes sense, just like when I went to Michigan.” He couldn't help but smile. “Also you're trying to take responsibility for other people again. Let me handle this. I'd feel better knowing the two of you were watching over our family.”

  His cousin looked away, slowing down even more. “All three of us should go. We're needed there.”

  In spite of the words Trev knew Lewis's resolve was weakening. “All three of us can't. Also isn't that a discussion you should be having with Jane?”

  Lewis sped up without answering, until he was going an almost dangerous speed along the rutted gravel road in the darkness. “Let's get the bees taken care of,” he called.

  Trev had no arguments there. He did his best to catch up.

  Over the next hour they took care of the honey and beeswax, working in strained silence. Both tried to relieve it with banter, but neither seemed in the mood. Last of all they hiked out to the box hive to release the swarm into it. Lewis brought his night vision goggles to see, and Trev let him do most of the work while he helped as directed.

  It wasn't his project anymore. Lewis would do a good job tending the hive while he was gone, probably better than he would've, so it was best he work on it from the start.

  His cousin finally closed the lid of the new hive over the relocated swarm and left them to settl
e in. “I don't know about you but I'm exhausted,” he said, starting back towards the shelter.

  Trev did his best to walk beside him in the darkness, tripping over obstacles Lewis could see but he couldn't. “Yeah, assuming I can sleep at all.”

  Just as they were circling around the shorter hill across from the shelter Lewis abruptly spoke up again. “Remember up in the mountains last winter? Just the two of us, conquering everything that came our way.”

  He smiled. “Yeah. I'll admit I feel a lot more confident about things when I'm around you.”

  His cousin stopped to put a hand on his shoulder, the shape of his face with the goggles odd in the darkness. “Are you sure you want to be the one to go?”

  “No, but I'm going to do it anyway.” Trev shrugged, trying to ignore the discomfort of having his cousin able to see him through the goggles while all he saw was a silhouette. “Take care of everyone, okay? Jim needs someone to help him along like you helped me. And Linda . . . well, even after everything that's happened she doesn't seem mentally prepared for the world the way it is now.”

  “I will.” Lewis squeezed his shoulder, then dropped his hand and continued on towards the shelter.

  Trev followed, making his way to his bed in the crowded shipping container while his cousin sought out Jane. It was a relief to sink onto the cot and let his muscles relax.

  As he'd predicted, he didn't sleep well.

  Chapter Eleven

  Volunteers

  Matt was up early, dressed and ready to take his bike into town.

  Although she usually got up later than him Sam was awake when he left, coming out to hug him goodbye. She kept the hug going for an uncomfortably long time, not saying a word but just holding him tight.

  They'd talked for hours the night before, and she hadn't liked what he'd had to say. She hadn't disagreed either, though.

 

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