Shortage (Best Laid Plans Book 2) (14 page)

Matt looked around at the crowd. “I'm happy to see them leaving, but it doesn't look like anyone's celebrating.”

“Well they are taking a bunch of food,” Edna Watson pointed out.

“At least they're leaving our guns,” Chauncey replied. “With those we can hunt for more food. We should've been doing that all this time as the deer came down from the mountains to escape the cold, but Ferris was more interested in kicking down doors than filling bellies.”

His wife put a hand on his arm, shushing him. “They're not gone yet,” she whispered.

As they watched the trailers being loaded Matt's attention was drawn to a commotion near the door, where Private Gutierrez had been helping the other soldiers work but was now being dragged off to one side by an irate Mandy Townsend. The soldier seemed impatient at the distraction.

“What do you mean you're not taking me with you?” Mandy demanded, loud enough for Matt to hear clearly where he stood in the parking lot over 30 feet away. “I love you!”

At that Gutierrez actually laughed in her face. “Sure you do. Listen, lady. Administrator Ferris says no tagalongs, but even if I could take you with me I wouldn't. I'm sick of your bad attitude and lazy lovemaking, which by the way is literally the
only
thing resembling work that you actually do. And baby, you don't do it well . . . I'd see more life out of a store mannequin, and I wouldn't have to do every single little chore for the mannequin and put up with its nonstop pissing and moaning either.”

“So that's it?” she demanded, livid. “You're just going to use me and leave me with nothing after almost a month together?”

“Don't try to talk to me about who was using who,” the young soldier snapped, expression darkening. “You got a place to stay, food, and my protection for weeks. Not to mention I doted on you like a puppy and actually had feelings for you, at least until I figured out what a spiteful leech you are. You should feel grateful I didn't kick you to the curb weeks ago, but then again gratitude isn't something you do, is it?”

Mandy looked like she was going to leap at Gutierrez and go for his eyes, but something in his stance must have made her think better of it. Instead she kicked the wall next to him and started to storm away, only to stop and turn back after ten feet. “I'll find someone else. I can replace you in a day.”

Gutierrez just laughed at her again. “Give my regards to the poor sucker if you can find anyone stupid enough to go for it.”

Fuming, the blond woman turned to rejoin the crowd only to suddenly realize that just about everyone had been watching her public humiliation. Mortified, she turned and hurried the other way, circling around the storehouse to flee into town.

Not too long after that the bicycles and packs were loaded and the soldiers were all mounted and ready to go. As he prepared to get on his own bike, one without a trailer, Ferris turned to the crowd. “In my absence the world will have the chance to see the kind of people you are in how you treat the refugees. If I've taught you anything then maybe this town has a chance.”

The words were greeted by stony silence by the townspeople. Matt wasn't usually one to swear, but after that pompous speech he could think of a few choice words he'd like to toss the bureaucrat's way. Almost as if he was satisfied by the hostile reception, like it confirmed some strongly held belief, Ferris mounted the bicycle and started out, wobbling awkwardly at first until he got some speed.

Behind him the rest of the FETF convoy followed, pedaling north along Main Street. In their wake they left their two trucks abandoned on one side of the sporting goods store's parking lot, as if to symbolize the mess they'd left behind.

Before too long Turner, at the back of the convoy on another bike without a trailer, disappeared from sight. The silence in the crowd continued as everyone looked at each other, wondering what to do next.

That silence was shattered by Scott Tillman bursting out of the store with Anderson hot on his heels, waving frantically for him to stop. “There's no food!” Tillman shouted, ignoring the Mayor's angry glare. “Forget what that FETF pencil pusher said about being called north, he left because the storehouse is empty and we had nothing left for him to steal!”

Anderson sighed, shoulders slumping in defeat as the crowd erupted in rage at that news. He raised his hands for quiet, which took an embarrassingly long time. “It's true,” he finally shouted over the fading noise. “Even though we were involved in distribution Ferris and his goons never let us see inside the storehouse. We had no way of knowing the situation was this bad. It looks as if that food they packed up to carry out was the last of it.”

“The food's bad enough, but who's going to protect us now that the Feds are gone?” Eve Anderson, the Mayor's own wife, demanded anxiously. “Our policeman left with Ferris!”

“Good riddance, the traitor!” a man in the crowd shouted. “He helped Ferris and his goons rob his own neighbors!”

The Mayor held up his hands for quiet against the general murmur of agreement that swept over the crowd. “Easy people, easy. FETF didn't have anything aside from their bicycle trailers to haul a load with so they left behind most of what they've confiscated, including our weapons and most of our ammo. We can still handle protection for ourselves. I'd recommend we set up our roadblocks once more and renew our guard and patrol rosters.”

“Why set up the roadblocks?” the same man shouted. Matt thought it was Ian Childress, Pete's dad. “You'll just take 'em down again the moment another government official comes and we'll be right back to having all our stuff stolen to give to refugees!”

That got another wave of agreement from the crowd, at least until angry swearing over near Ian parted the crowd slightly. Matt saw the older man stagger as a raggedly dressed young man shoved him. “That's my family you're talking about!” he shouted. “FETF kept us alive when you would've let us starve to death on your doorstep!”

The young man stepped forward to shove Ian again, but before he could the older man recovered his balance and socked the refugee right in the nose, sending him wheeling to the ground. “You wouldn't be starving!” Ian shouted. “And don't pretend you're a victim. Don't think I don't recognize you, kid. Even though you had the ration line to feed you I saw you stealing apples from Mrs. Harris's tree!”

The crowd roared their agreement, and the few refugees who'd been watching FETF leave suddenly found themselves surrounded by a hostile crowd. They started to back away, looking nervous.

“People!” Anderson shouted from the front of the store, waving his arms. “This isn't who we are! Everyone go home and give us a chance to figure things out. We don't want violence starting the moment Ferris and his soldiers leave.”

The crowd hardly paid attention to the Mayor, turning to follow the refugees and shouting angrily for them to leave. Matt wasn't sure whether his neighbors meant leave town or leave altogether, and he had a feeling they weren't sure either. All he knew was that he wasn't shouting, and neither were the Watsons. A few other families hung back, including the Tillmans, but for the most part it looked as if the town meant to relieve some of their pent up resentment on the unlucky refugees who happened to be around.

Things might have gotten ugly if a new source of shouting hadn't drawn everyone's attention. Matt turned with the others to see Carl Raymond pelting down Main Street from the direction of the refugee camp, wildly waving his arms.

“Razor's coming!” he shouted again. “He's got dozens of armed men with him!”

Chapter Seven

Assault

Pandemonium broke out in the crowd at the news. Many immediately bolted, some towards their homes and some south in the opposite direction of the refugee camp. As for Matt he stood stunned, not surprised that Razor would try something but not quite able to believe he'd act so quickly.

“Everyone into the store!” Catherine Tillman yelled, waving towards the doors. “Quick, we need to pass out the guns and prepare to defend ourselves!”

“Wait!” Anderson called frantically. “Everyone stay calm! We'll go and talk to Razor.”

“Talk to him?” the councilwoman demanded. “Are you crazy? He's not here to talk, he's come for the storehouse! We need to get everyone armed to defend this place!”

The Mayor glared at her. “We don't know that, and if we start grabbing guns we guarantee there's going to be violence. I want to find a peaceable solution so I'm going to go see what he wants.”

Catherine shook her head. “Well I'm going to stay here and get these guns ready to use for when your plan fails.”

Not looking quite as certain, Anderson pushed through the crowd streaming for the store to head north along Main. A few people followed, although farther behind as spectators rather than support. Matt looked helplessly after the man, then towards the store. The Watsons were already headed for the doors to follow Catherine inside, but when Chauncey noticed Matt still standing there he paused. “Come on, we need you!”

“Save me a gun!” Matt answered as he pulled out his bear spray and trotted after Anderson. The man had his faults, but he couldn't leave him to die alone. If worse came to worst he could maybe disable anyone who came after the Mayor and buy him time to escape.

Just as Carl had warned, the road leading to the refugee camp was crowded with a group of rough, raggedly dressed men stalking purposefully into town. All carried some sort of weapon, from axes to machetes to simple knives or even ugly looking heavy sticks with nails stuck through the ends. There were also a disturbing number of rifles in view. All told Matt guessed there were at least 50 people, and in front of them ambled their deceptively nondescript leader.

The sight caused the hairs on the back of his neck to stand up. Razor had gotten bolder and bolder about whatever deal he'd had with Ferris, to the point that rumors of atrocities in the refugee camp were becoming more and more common. With the administrator gone it looked as if the gang leader wanted to bring the same atrocities into Aspen Hill now that there was nothing to stop him.

Nothing but the townspeople, if they could.

To his credit Anderson strode forward to intercept the mob, holding out a hand. “That's far enough!” he called sharply, only a slight quaver betraying his nervousness, when the refugees were about 30 feet away. “What do you want?”

Surprisingly Razor actually stopped, slouching back with his hands thrust deep into the pockets of his baggy jeans. Matt knew from personal experience that that was a bad sign, and he only hoped the Mayor did as well. “What makes you think I want anything, townie?”

Anderson straightened to his full height. “In that case go back to camp. Ferris is gone, which means we're going back to how things were before he came. The town is closed again and we'll be setting the roadblocks back up.”

Razor looked at the taller man in open contempt. “Fair enough,” he said, voice deceptively mild. “It's not like we came to burn this place to the ground or anything. We just want our share of the supplies those FETF soldiers gathered, including all our stolen weapons. I'd say that's fair, wouldn't you?”

“Not happening,” Anderson said. “I'm Mayor, and as such Ferris left me in charge of the town and surrounding areas. Furthermore Ferris took all the remaining food with him, so there'll be no more ration line.”

Matt wasn't the only one who jumped a little when Razor suddenly burst into laughter. The man sounded like he'd just heard the funniest joke in the world, but somehow the expression on his face said he was only moments from sprinting for Anderson and ripping him apart with his bare hands. Even though Matt was a good twenty feet behind the Mayor with the rest of the small crowd of onlookers the reaction made him nervous.

“No more ration line,” the gang leader repeated with another guffaw straight from his belly. “You mean like before that weasel showed up, when you kept us away at gunpoint and were going to let us all starve to death on your doorstep?”

The Mayor shook his head. “The situation's changed since then. Like it or not we're all in this together, so we'll do things fair.”

Razor turned to look at his followers, raising his voice to a shout. “Fair, he says! The American Dream! How about it, boys, are you enjoying how
fair
things have been since we got here?” The question was met with a chorus of boos and shouts of “No!”

The psychopath nodded in satisfaction and turned back to Anderson, and suddenly his mild tone was gone, replaced by the sort of open menace that made Matt wish he'd grabbed a weapon from the storehouse before following after the Mayor. “Yeah, me neither. In fact,
townie
, I think I'd rather just take everything and see how
you
like coming to
us
hat in hand like beggars. We'll be sure to be just as generous to you as you were to us.”

Anderson took a step back, looking behind him at the small huddle of townspeople for support. The fact that they were so far back didn't seem to reassure him, but he still tried to put up a brave face as he turned back to the mob of refugees. “I'm afraid I can't allow that.”

In answer Razor pulled a small caliber pistol out of his pocket and shot the Mayor in the head.

Matt stared frozen in shock as Anderson fell, all thoughts of defending him with bear spray gone in a moment, and time seemed to stop as the world went entirely silent. That psycho had just murdered the Mayor of Aspen Hill in broad daylight in front of dozens of witnesses. Even with everything he knew about him Matt hadn't fully expected it.

Then the gang leader shifted his aim to point the gun at the crowd of Aspen Hill residents and pulled the trigger again, and somewhere to Matt's left he heard a scream of pain. Razor raised his voice to be heard over it as he turned to the refugees. “Let's tear this place to the ground!”

The thugs surged forward with their weapons raised, screaming in almost inhuman hatred, while the crowd around Matt scattered in all directions. Matt ran as well, but not randomly. He was making for the storehouse. “Everyone get to Tillman's!” he shouted at the top of his lungs at the people running around him. “We've got the guns there!”

Behind him he heard more scattered gunshots, from the surprisingly large number of weapons Razor's thugs had managed to keep from Ferris, as well as screams of fear and pain as the people behind him went down. Matt wanted to help them but the mob was closing the distance fast, and if he slowed they'd catch up to him. It was lucky he hadn't been shot yet.

He pelted into the sporting goods store's parking lot with a dozen townspeople, sprinting for everything he was worth for the huddle of people in the doorway waving them forward and shouting in encouragement. A few of them held rifles, and Matt felt a stirring of alarm as they took aim past him at the attacking gang members and opened fire.

Then he was inside, turning back to see that Razor's men were scattering for cover while shooting at the door, as well as at the glass windows at the front of the store. In seconds every single one was shattered, glass spraying the space inside as people dove for cover.

“Everyone grab a gun!” Catherine shouted as more people came in behind Matt, hurrying towards them. “If you're not ready to defend yourself I hope you're ready to die helpless!” She shoved a Glock and a few full magazines into Matt's hands as she continued for his ears only. “Where's Anderson?”

“Razor shot him,” Matt said dazedly, looking down at the pistol. “Just pulled out a gun and shot him in the head, then he and his thugs started shooting into the crowd.”

“We'll make sure he faces justice,” the councilwoman said grimly, then shooed him back towards the windows Razor's thugs were shooting through.

Matt awkwardly shoved a magazine into the port and made sure it slid home, then cocked the gun and did a quick chamber check. It looked like a .40 rather than the 9mm he was used to, but since it basically functioned the same he supposed that wouldn't matter too much, aside from a heavier recoil.

Around a hundred townspeople had made it into the store, and many of them carried weapons. But in spite of all Catherine's urging only a few had taken up positions by the windows to defend the store. The rest were huddled at the back, in the area the FETF soldiers had used for their sleeping space, crouched low and doing their best to stay out of the line of fire.

Since he was one of the few people actually defending the place Matt felt the pressure to do his part. He leaned out the window slightly to look for targets, only to immediately jerk his head back as wood splinters peppered his cheek and he saw a bullet hole appear in the frame only inches away.

More cautious now, he focused on what he could see from cover beyond the opposite side of the window, in the direction of the side street that led to his house. One of Razor's thugs was ducking into cover behind the fence of the house opposite the store, holding what looked like a .22 rifle or possibly even a BB gun. Matt took aim, waiting, and when the man reappeared he fired.

Unfortunately he jerked the trigger, and instead of hitting the thug he hit the fence beside him. It was still enough to make the man flinch behind cover. He didn't reappear.

At a window along the wall that faced that same street Carl Raymond abruptly yelled and went down clutching his shoulder. Catherine cursed and abandoned her place handing out firearms and replacement magazines to rush to his side, calling for help pulling him to safety. A couple of men in the huddled crowd hurried forward to help, while Tam took her husband's place place at the window with a rifle to cover them as they pulled him back to safety. Unlike Carl she leaned out into view more cautiously to take quick shots.

“I can't believe that rat Ferris spent the last month feeding Razor and his gang with our food,” the councilwoman muttered, barely audible over the chaos as she and the others lifted Carl onto a soldier's cot. “No, we can't arrest him or run him and his thugs out of camp, but we must make sure they don't miss a meal in the ration line.”

Matt turned his eyes back outside in time to see the same man he'd shot at earlier duck out of cover aiming right for him. He threw himself backwards as a bullet whinged past his ear, and was about to start looking for a new source of cover when Tam yelled to him that she'd got the guy. Matt leaned out, shaking from adrenaline, and fired randomly at one of the few remaining vehicles in the parking lot where he could see the feet of a few men from beneath the undercarriage.

The next couple minutes were pure chaos as Matt did his best to hold his spot, ducking shots when they came his way, as he shot desperately at any targets he saw outside. He was almost certain he missed everything he was aiming for, wasting his bullets, but he had to hope he was at least providing cover for people in the store with better aim.

He'd just finished reloading his .40 with the second to last clip Catherine had given him when a swiftly cut off noise from outside made him freeze in slow mounting horror. It came from the direction of his house, he thought, far away and barely heard over the constant noise of gunshots, but in spite of that he picked it out immediately.

It was Sam's voice, screaming for help.

Matt stood rooted in place at the sound, every single ounce of self control spent forcing himself not to go dashing out into enemy gunfire in response to the heartrending sound. His protective instinct screamed for him to respond to Sam's clear distress, but he needed to think things through rationally.

Why had she screamed? Razor was attacking the storehouse and he hadn't seen her while Ferris was leaving or while going after Anderson, which meant she was either out with his mom gathering food or back at their house. She might have come to investigate the sound of gunfire and seen Tillman's being attacked, and if she knew he was in here she would certainly be worried about him. But if that was the case she wouldn't have screamed since that would only draw attention to herself.

Unless . . .

Matt abandoned his spot at the window and ran over to where Tam had positioned herself along the other wall. “How many people do you see out there?” he demanded.

The petite woman frowned. “Half a dozen or so. Why?”

“It looks like there's seven or eight out front. Razor had over 50 men with him.”

Tam's expression became alarmed. “Wait, you're saying they're just keeping us pinned here? That means they could be trying to find another way in here, or they could be-”

“Attacking the rest of the town that doesn't have weapons to defend themselves,” Matt cut in. That explained Sam's screaming.

More importantly, if she was screaming she must have been in immediate danger and he'd already wasted half a minute. He left Tam at the window and sprinted through the door at the back of the store into the stockroom. On the other side of the room there was a rolling loading door at the back of the building that was shut and locked, and beside it a normal sized door. Both barriers were shaking and thumping to the sound of men trying to break in, while Chauncey and his son Rick crouched behind piles of stuff Ferris had confiscated ready to open fire on the first attackers to make it through.