Nuclear Winter | Book 2 | First Spring

by Jones, Nathan

  “So maybe learn your lesson from them and don't do the same when you're old enough to date.”

  “Right, but that doesn't really solve my problems with her,” Jim muttered. “Maybe I should take a page from your book and build a room for myself so I don't have to be around her. Or maybe a whole house, preferably all the way on the other side of town.”

  That would be a bit novel. His brother would be 14 in a few weeks, and was all ready to move out and live on his own. It was a ludicrous thought, even with how quickly Jim had been forced to mature since the Gulf burned and how independent and capable he'd become.

  The funny thing was he probably could build his own house, and not a bad one at that, especially if he had the same help Trev, Lewis, and everyone else had building theirs. Of course that wouldn't change the fact that he'd be effectively living alone, and even if he didn't have to worry about arguments with Linda that wouldn't be good for him mentally or socially.

  But Jim was right that the situation was intolerable for him, and some of the fault was his own. While Linda did go out of her way to torment him, his brother also took every opportunity to retaliate and also jump on her for her flaws. They were hammer and anvil, constantly striking sparks and seeming magnetically drawn to arguing with each other.

  Trev sighed. Of course Jim didn't need his own house. “Once we've got time between all the big necessary tasks to get done this spring, I'll help you build another extension to the cabin.”

  His brother stiffened excitedly. “Really? Can we pace out the dimensions right now?”

  “I've got this to get done,” Trev said, motioning to the stove. “And you've got to go make sure the fence around the shelter group's animals is sturdy, then set up a tarp shelter for them.”

  “But after that?” Jim was practically wiggling like a puppy.

  Trev couldn't help but grin. “Sure, if there's time.”

  A couple hours later he found himself pacing out a room with his brother on the far side of the cabin, talking over how big Jim wanted the room and how many logs they'd need. His brother claimed he'd be content with enough room for his bed, but Trev suggested that while they were going to the effort they might as well make it big enough for him to put in furniture later if he wanted it.

  Jim had been helping their dad with furniture projects all winter, and pestered Robert regularly on carpentry advice, so there was every chance his brother might end up with the best furnished room in the house if he was willing to work at it.

  Trev wasn't sure where Linda had gone off to, but she returned while they were measuring out dimensions. And, as he could've guessed, when she realized what they were doing she exploded in outrage.

  “Now he gets a room?” she screeched.

  For the love of . . . “He wants to build it himself, and I agreed to help him,” Trev said, trying to be reasonable.

  “That's fantastic,” his sister snapped. “Why aren't you building one for me?”

  “You want one?” Jim demanded. “You want to chop down all the trees, limb them and scrape off the bark, stack them for the walls and build the roof and cut out doors and windows and chink all the cracks and smooth the floor?” He scowled. “If you want to do all that then heck, I'll help you build your own room.”

  Linda hesitated. “I suppose I should just be celebrating that I won't have to put up with you anymore,” she groused. “Hurry up and build your stupid room and move out already.”

  “Believe me, I will,” Jim shot back.

  Trev sighed, glancing at the sun. “I need to get ready for my shift.”

  “Yeah, I need to water the gardens and greenhouse plants,” Jim agreed. “But we'll get back to this, right?”

  “As soon as we can.”

  It turned out that was longer than Trev thought, even with all the work they had to get done in those vital first days of spring. Because a few days later, on May 1st, Chauncey received word over the radio that the military would be paying the town a visit.

  Chapter Ten

  Good and Great

  “Grimes is coming personally?” Matt asked, moving around the desk to stare at the front of the radio as if it would have some answers to this puzzle. “Today? The snow's still six feet deep on the mountains around us!”

  Chauncey chuckled. “On some of these peaks the snow sticks around into the summer on a usual year. This year we might not be able to count on it melting at all before next winter kicks in. Which means the military can't wait for the trail to clear; if they want to get anywhere they've got to clear it themselves.”

  Matt supposed that made sense. “Okay so they're willing to use special vehicles or some sort of plow to reach us, but why? Have you heard anything that would justify the Colonel himself coming?”

  The retired teacher frowned thoughtfully. “I've heard a lot of chatter, but nothing concrete. I will say the military operator who contacted me was obviously excited about something, so whatever has Colonel Grimes making this visit is either very bad news or very good.”

  Okay then. Matt would've preferred a mundane visit, although he could always hope it really was good news. These days that was a lot less likely than the bad. “Did he give a timetable?”

  “Before noon, road conditions permitting.”

  Which meant anywhere from on time to after sunset. “All right then,” Matt said. “Let's roll out the red carpet.”

  Unsurprisingly there was a tremendous amount of interest in the visit from everyone in town, more than would be usual even for a the arrival of the man in charge of military operations, and so effectively all government, in the Utah Rockies. Grimes was the first person to officially visit Aspen Hill since the start of winter, months ago, and that made it a major deal as much as whatever purpose he'd come for.

  People saw the flurry of activity around the town hall tent, now back in use with the warmer weather, or heard of it through friends, and within a half hour a massive crowd had gathered. They didn't seem to mind the fact that it would be hours at the earliest until the colonel arrived, either.

  Matt supposed the sunny day was nice, and everyone was glad for an excuse to stand around socializing and speculating on what this was all about. He probably could've insisted that there was a lot of work to be done and this impromptu festival was interfering with that, but he supposed events like this happened rare enough that there was some value in letting everyone enjoy it.

  Besides, his duties forced him to be a killjoy often enough as it was. For once it was nice to just spend some time with friends and neighbors he hadn't seen much of over the winter. There was news of engagements and pregnancies to hand out congratulations for, and woeful tales of sickness and death to commiserate with, and requests for him to officiate wedding ceremonies.

  And, of course, there were plenty of requests for help, and even in that cheerful atmosphere a few grumps spreading sour grapes to deal with. Matt took the good with the bad, though, grateful for once there was so much of the former.

  The military convoy radioed ahead to let them know they were slightly delayed, and revised their timetable to one in the afternoon. The news spurred everyone into an impromptu potluck lunch, and Matt reluctantly doled out food from the town stores to make up the difference so nobody went hungry.

  People were just finishing up their meal when a plow truck popped up over the western ridge, a bit ahead of schedule, followed by a few smaller SUVs kitted out with snow tires for winter travel.

  The crowd actually cheered at the sight, forming up by the trampled path leading to the still-uncleared dirt road that passed by north of town. Matt was somewhat amused by their enthusiastic response, after the at best lukewarm receptions Grimes received last fall. The mood was much different after a harsh winter, and the colonel was treated almost like a returning hero as his small convoy rumbled up to the crowd.

  The colonel seemed to appreciate the reception, judging by his broad smile as he and his escort exited the middle vehicle and approached. He didn't come bearing
gifts, like many townspeople probably hoped, but people looked forward to any news just as much.

  After glad-handing with the town leaders and members of the crowd a bit Grimes pulled Matt out of easy earshot. “So it's your choice, Mr. Mayor,” he said with a slight smile. “Speech, or have a chat with you first?”

  Matt wondered if he should be worried by the fact he'd been offered one. “I guess that depends on your news, and whether I'll have to manage the crowd,” he replied quietly.

  “A rational and well considered response?” the colonel said with a chuckle. “That's a first for this tour.”

  “Tour?”

  Grimes nodded. “You guessed right. I've got big news to share, to everyone in the Utah Rockies if possible. Most of that is being done by my subordinates, but I figured with our history I'd deliver it to Aspen Hill in person.” His smile widened. “And it's good news, by the way.”

  That was a bigger relief than Matt had expected. He motioned to the crowd. “Then I suppose it's a speech, if that works for you. Most of the people in town are already gathered and hoping to hear something positive.”

  The older man rubbed his hands together almost gleefully. “Well, let's see if I can brighten their day.”

  Within a few minutes Matt had set up an impromptu stand for the colonel to clamber onto. Grimes soberly faced the crowd, although there was a smile in his eyes. “I like to get straight to the point, so I'm going to,” he began, and finally let his smile show. “Would you like to hear the good news first, or the great news?”

  There was only one suitable response to that, and the crowd of townspeople cheered loudly.

  The colonel's smile broadened and he held up his hands for quiet, which he quickly got. “Good news it is. We've had official word from General Erikson that the coalition of US and Canadian Armed Forces has finally managed to push the Gold Bloc out of the Eastern States. Which means that aside from a few contested states in the South, we now hold everything east of the Mississippi.”

  That was incredible news. It meant that aside from the fallout zones which nobody held, the Great Plains, and the South, the US was almost entirely in their hands again. Even better, the blockheads were on the retreat.

  This time the cheer from the crowd was deafening, and Matt raised his own voice as loud as everyone else's.

  Grimes raised his hands again, although the crowd was a bit slower to silence with that momentous news to dwell on. Finally an expectant hush settled over them as he continued. “And now for the great news. Last winter was brutal, I know, and we're facing an equally brutal winter in all too short a time. We're critically low on resources, and with the short growing season and massive refugee population we don't have anywhere near the food we need to survive until next spring.”

  A low, dismayed rumble broke out through the crowd, and Matt frowned. This was the great news?

  Then the colonel continued, unperturbed. “Fortunately for us Mexico does, and they're willing to trade.”

  The dismay turned to interest, and everyone fell into an expectant silence waiting for more.

  Which Grimes was happy to give them. “Our neighbors to the south faced their own struggles when the Gulf burned, but aside from the Gold Bloc using their northern territory as a staging area and invasion point they didn't suffer much large scale conflict. And actually that turned out to be a benefit for them, because when they drove the blockheads out of Mexico they managed to keep the bulk of the enemy's supplies.

  “Their government managed to survive mostly intact, and they've spent the last year and a half focusing on growing food, helped by the fact that they have a larger infrastructure of low tech agriculture than America did, which was able to continue through the crisis far less affected by it. To add to that the climate changes caused by the Retaliation that have caused us so many problems were actually beneficial for their efforts, increasing rainfall and making temperatures more moderate. Their growing season is practically year round, and they've drastically expanded their agricultural base to produce a large surplus.”

  The colonel looked around. “How does that affect us? Well they've been working so hard specifically because they intended to trade with whatever was left of their northern neighbors, once things calmed down a little. They knew the US and Canada were already starving, and after the Retaliation wiped out the Gold Bloc nations the blockheads would be in the same boat. They intend to capitalize on that, while also providing us with food we desperately need.”

  Matt felt as if a huge weight had fallen off his shoulders. He'd been trying to keep the news from spreading, but the Aspen Hill storehouse was nearly empty of food. Trying to keep everyone alive through the winter had tapped them out, and he'd been hesitant to reveal that bit of information considering the upsurge in suicides that had taken place when people ran out of the military windfall.

  The town had been needing some sort of miracle, like the most productive summer of hunting and harvesting crops ever, to keep from next winter being an even bigger disaster than the one right after the Gulf burned. And it looked as if Mexico's food surplus and their desire to trade was it.

  Assuming the news wasn't too good to be true. Matt didn't want to interrupt the speech, but he felt he should to ask the million dollar question. “What do they want to trade for? We're not just low on food, we're also hurting for just about everything else.”

  Grimes grinned. “I'm glad you asked. They've invited us to a trade summit to discuss just that, but to get the ball rolling they asked us to bring down a trade convoy, and gave us a list of goods they're interested in. Among those are the expected things: military hardware, vehicles, household appliances and high tech gadgets. Things that would make them more secure and improve their standard of living.”

  He paused dramatically, then finished with relish. “And since they also want to seriously profit off this, they'll also accept valuables. Which the military happens to have in excess because we've been hoarding wealth. Things like precious metals, jewelry, watches, wherever we found it and however much we could take with us.”

  Lewis spoke up skeptically from the front row. “Considering how desperately we needed necessities, wasn't gathering up useless valuables bad prioritization?”

  “You'd think so,” the colonel admitted, not seeming offended at the challenge. “To be fair I thought so too. Seemed like an almost criminal waste of time and resources at the time, considering we were facing war with an enemy that outnumbered us at least 10 to 1 and then nuclear winter on the back of it. But you can't stop human nature, and even if our people didn't think they'd ever be able to spend it there were still some elements of the military who hoarded the stuff.”

  “And now that Mexico's jockeying to be the only food game in town, that wealth is going to be a literal lifesaver,” Lewis concluded.

  Grimes shrugged. “We hope. We're willing to bankrupt ourselves to feed everyone until we can get stabilized, and they seem perfectly happy to trade with anyone who's got something they're interested in, even scavengers and bandits picking clean the carcass of what used to be America. In fact as a bargaining chip, to make sure we knew that we weren't the only buyers, they outright admitted they're also inviting Canada and the CCZ to the trade summit.”

  Matt frowned and exchanged puzzled glances with the other town leaders. “CCZ?”

  The senior officer glanced around. “Ah, right, that's a relatively new development. The Central Controlled Zone. That's what the blockheads have taken to calling their turf. All the western and central territory they took from Canada, as well as the Great Plains area of the US. Basically where we're concerned everything east of the Rockies and west of the Mississippi. According to our intel the Russian remnants are holding the territory in Canada, while the Chinese and other Gold Bloc nations' soldiers are occupying the Great Plains, along with their much larger population of civilian settlers and the bulk of the American slaves they've taken.”

  “Just a moment,” Lewis cut in politely. For him
at least. “I can see where Canada would have a strong bargaining position with them working to get their fuel production online, and like you said we've got the wealth we stored up. What are the blockheads trading? Everything they scavenged from their conquered territories? If we were snatching up wealth they wouldn't have got too much from us, and I'd assume Canada took their own precautions, and the blockheads will need all the non-food resources that are useful like building materials for themselves.”

  The colonel shrugged. “We didn't manage to get much, and they've had plenty of time to snatch up whatever we didn't get and loot a lot of the Eastern States before we drove them out. But even though neither side is willing to admit it, we suspect their main trade commodity is going to be slaves.”

  That threw everyone in the crowd for a loop. “Slaves?” Matt repeated incredulously. “Even if Mexico was willing to stoop that low, why would they want to?”

  “They've got every reason to want to,” Grimes replied grimly. “Like I said they're constantly working on building their farming operation, and low tech farming requires considerable manual labor. Granted it's just a supposition on our part, and it might be that our neighbors to the south won't stoop that low, as you've said. But from the sounds of it the CCZ seems to have first priority for their food and other trade goods, when they should have last. That's a pretty strong indication.”

  A somewhat grim silence fell as everyone considered the implications of that.

  Matt was doing plenty of that himself. Less than two years since the Gulf burned and a bit over one since the Retaliation, and half the countries in North America were already resorting to slavery? Was a disaster, even a cataclysmic one, really all it took to revert to such savagery?

  Catherine spoke quietly into the silence. “Thank you for the good news, Colonel. But how does it apply to our town?”

  Grimes winced slightly. “Well that brings us back to the “picking clean the carcass of what used to be America” thing I mentioned earlier. We don't know how much we'll be able to purchase with what we've got, especially since Mexico's got the monopoly on food and can pretty much name their price. I'm guessing in the next decade they'll get fabulously wealthy off keeping their northern neighbors fed, but we're not them so that doesn't help us much.”