Shortage (Best Laid Plans Book 2) (34 page)

Apparently the Mayor gave everyone who did a full shift at the roadblock or on patrol a bowl of soup. For those on patrol the meager portion wasn't enough to make up the energy of walking the route, which explained why Matt was having trouble finding people to volunteer, but for sitting behind a roadblock in the cold it was, barely, a net gain.

So Matt hadn't been entirely accurate. The roadblocks weren't a gossip circle, they were a soup kitchen line. Those who'd already left to collect their bowl of soup hadn't sat all the way through a shift, but Catherine fed them anyway, probably since in the colder months sitting out in the cold starving would've just created more sick people. Trev could only assume the Thorntons were too proud to end their shift early, at least now that the weather was warming up. According to Hans they took a shift at least once a day, sometimes twice.

Trev felt a bit guilty about his initial bitterness about selling the rest of their cache to the town, knowing that this was one of the things it went towards. It also made him feel better about their decision to sell in the end.

He went out to check the road and surrounding area again, and by the time he got back the shift was over and Hal and the Thorntons had gone, a new group of women and a few men filling up the chairs and starting their own gossip. Trev nodded at the group as he passed by, making his way back to the shelter. He wasn't about to take a bowl of soup when people were starving, and he had a feeling that in spite of his weak and emaciated condition Matt hadn't been either.

With any luck his friend would be around when he got back, since Trev needed to have a conversation with him about the roadblocks. He had no problem with the charity aspect of things, but asking a bunch of starving people to do a vital task and then practically encouraging them to leave halfway through wasn't making the town any more secure. Most of the women he'd seen there hadn't even been armed, and the radio set in a box in one of the firing niches behind the furniture looked as if it hadn't been used in a while.

When he got back he found his cousin outside on the taller hill overlooking the shelter, shovel in hand and digging in what looked like a random spot while Aaron and Paul watched curiously. Aaron kept on asking if he could help dig, but Lewis just shook his head each time as he kept going.

Trev had a feeling he knew what his cousin was up to. “You've got to be kidding me, another cache?” he asked as he came within earshot. He shook his head incredulously. “Although it
is
you, so why am I surprised?”

Lewis smiled tightly. “Not exactly a cache. More like a last ditch hiding place for all my most important valuables in case I lose literally everything else.” He used his shovel to thump an object in the hole, which made a dull plasticky
thud
. As Trev got closer he saw Lewis had dug down to some sort of large pipe, nearly a foot in diameter.

Lewis gave it another thump as he continued. “It's all in vacuum sealed bags in there, then the pipe itself is airtight and I used plumber's tape to water seal the end caps then taped around the seams with duct tape just to be safe. In our dry climate and with how I positioned the cache I doubt water was a problem. Here, want to take a turn? It's about four feet long, so it should almost be uncovered enough that we can lever it up.” He turned to Aaron with a smile. “Then you can fill in the hole if you want.

Trev accepted the shovel and got to work. “So what's in there?”

“Some savings in gold and silver, a small but high quality HAM radio just in case EMP knocked out my bigger one, an SP101 and some ammo in case I lost all my other firearms, an emergency pack with medical supplies, a water purifier, firestarting equipment, and a few rations, and hundreds of packets of heirloom seeds.”

“Seeds!” Trev said excitedly. “So that's why you're digging it up now. They'll be worth their weight in gold!”

“You're crazy if you think I'm selling them,” Lewis protested, looming protectively over the pipe and almost getting whacked by the shovel as Trev continued working. “You and me are going into gardening. I've already talked to the Mayor about a perfect plot along the Aspen Hill Canyon stream south of town. We'll be right next to the plot Matt's family is using for their own garden, and Catherine is letting us use what little lawn and gardening equipment they had in their store. I figured we could use our wagons to haul some manure from the pens where the livestock were held.”

Trev found the other end cap his cousin hadn't already reached and dug around it until he could get the shovel under the edge. With a bit of pushing on the shovel handle the entire pipe popped partway out of the hole, and Lewis grabbed it and manhandled it the rest of the way. He handed the shovel to Aaron, who happily got to work trying to wield the bulky tool and awkwardly push dirt back into the hole, while he and Lewis carried the pipe down to the shelter with Paul toddling along behind.

“Why the south end of town?” he asked once they'd gotten it to the ramp, where they set it down and his cousin got to work opening it up. “Someone could steal the food we grow, or destroy the crop for some messed up reason.”

“The ground's better there, and us and the Larsons aren't going to be the only people growing crops along the river. The Watsons, the Tillmans, the Childresses, and a dozen other families will also be there with us. We can help each other, but more importantly we can organize a full time watch to make sure nobody tampers with the crops or tries to steal them.”

It took a while, but they managed to get one of the end caps unscrewed. Lewis spread out a clean tarp and they carefully poured the contents onto it. Aaron and Paul were interested in the precious metals and the small but powerful revolver, but Trev's eyes were all on the seeds. “Will they still be good?”

“They should be.” Lewis picked up one of the sealed bags and looked at the stack of packets inside. “They're only a few years old and the water shouldn't have got to them.”

Trev picked up another bag. Tomatoes, carrots, various squashes, radishes, and beets. His stomach rumbled just thinking of them. “How long until we can plant?”

His cousin lost a bit of his good cheer. “That's the question, isn't it? The cold seems later in coming during the fall these last few years, but it also means it lasts later after winter, too, sometimes into May or even June. We have a situation where if we plant too early the crops can die, but if we plant too late the people relying on those crops will. I know a lot of people in town are going to try to plant early and pray for a good outcome, but even at the earliest it'll be weeks until we can plant, maybe as much as a month.”

“Until then we can prepare the plot and focus on other things,” Trev said.

“Exactly.” Lewis set the bag he held back on the pile. “I talked to Jane, and she's agreed to show me where she's been having the best luck finding game. Now that things are warming up animals are going to be heading back up into the mountains, so with any luck the foothills will be teeming with deer.”

Trev did his best not to feel jealous. He supposed now that Jane had shut him down he should be cheering his cousin on. Besides, although Lewis had joined him on a few double dates and wasn't exactly a loner, his cousin had never really sought out a relationship. Trev had a hard time seeing sparks flying between the two.

“That's pretty generous of her,” he said, trying to keep a neutral tone.

Lewis shrugged. “I wouldn't exactly say that. She partly wanted to pay us back for the food we gave her and Tom on the way down. Also she's expecting ten percent of any kill I make in a location she recommended.”

“What if she just recommended every single canyon and stream in the area?” Trev asked, frowning.

His cousin grinned at him. “Believe me, she didn't. I'm more than happy to pay a finder's fee for her advice.” He leaned down and scooped up an armful of stuff from the cache, and Trev hurried to grab his own armful and followed him inside.

* * * * *

The next day Trev got back from an uneventful shift at the roadblock to find Lewis off on patrol and the Larson family mostly gone, scattered around the town doing various tasks. Sam and Mrs. Larson, or he supposed they were both Mrs. Larson now but it was hard to get used to the idea, were up in the observation post sharing the watch and taking care of the boys.

Trev wasn't sure how he felt about that distraction while doing something that important, but then again boredom could create its own distractions and two pairs of eyes were better than one. Or three, since it looked as if Aaron had been deputized as lookout and was solemn and serious in his duties. The newly-turned six year old even challenged Trev as he approached and demanded he identify himself. Trev endured the interrogation good-naturedly as he waved to the two women, continuing on into the house to get some food before setting back out to make himself useful.

It turned out he didn't need to look for ways to do that, because halfway through the meal Matt came into the shelter with his nephews swarming around his legs and Sam holding his hand. His friend shooed the boys off into his wife's care while he made his way over to Trev's cot.

“I need your help digging,” he said, and his expression and tone of voice said it all.

Trev nodded and stood. “Who?”

“Betty Thornton.”

The news hit Trev hard. He hadn't seen the older woman or her daughter at the roadblock that morning, but he'd just assumed they were on another shift. Maybe the gossip circle had talked about it but he hadn't been listening. “I just saw her yesterday,” he said. “I won't say she looked healthy but I wasn't expecting this.”

“It can come pretty suddenly when people are weakened with hunger. Especially if they're getting on in years.” Matt shook his head grimly. “I'd hoped the funerals wouldn't be coming so often with the weather warming up, as if spring would magically solve all the other problems plaguing the town.”

A heavy silence fell. “What about Alice?” Trev asked. “Her parents are both gone now, right?”

For some reason his friend's face twisted, almost in guilt. “The Watsons agreed to take her in. I'm not sure they can spare the resources but they'll do their best.” He clapped Trev on the shoulder. “Come on, if you're ready.”

“Just a few more bites,” Trev replied, hurriedly shoving food into his mouth. As he finished up Matt went over to kiss Sam goodbye and tussle with his nephews for a minute. From the sounds of it she was suggesting that once one of the others came home to watch over the shelter she'd walk into town to keep him company, and maybe even bring the boys along to give them something to do besides be bored at home.

Before joining his friend Trev filled a sack with wheat, five pounds or so, to give to Alice anonymously via the Watsons. He couldn't help everyone in town, much as he'd like to, but if he could spare aid for strangers up in the mountains he couldn't do any less for a neighbor in need. He felt bad he hadn't thought to give this food yesterday, when it could've helped Betty as well. Was it just the way of the world to not know someone needed help, or to have some idea of it but not think to help them, until it was too late?

Easier to blame circumstance than himself, maybe. But again, he couldn't help everyone. Too little too late was at least better than nothing.

As he was heading out of the shelter Sam intercepted him, Matt and the boys already outside. She looked worried. “I'm worried about Matt,” she said without preamble.

Trev blinked. “Is he sick?”

She shook her head, dark hair flying. “He feels responsible for the town, more than he should. It's like he's wearing a lead vest and it's been getting heavier every day, for months now. I thought going to get you would help, and it has a bit, but when there wasn't as much food as he'd hoped it all seemed to come back.”

The petite woman swallowed, eyes suddenly swimming with tears. “I don't know what happened, maybe Betty Thornton's death, but he's even worse today. I've never seen him like this, even after Razor attacked.”

“I'll talk to him,” Trev promised. Then he paused, looking closer at Sam's pale face. “What about you, are you okay?”

She gave a start of surprise and looked almost panicked. “I, um, no, yeah. Just tired.” Without waiting for a response she hurried out to say her goodbyes to her husband.

Trev might've expected that sort of response from Jane, at least the leaving without a word part, but it seemed uncharacteristic for Matt's wife. Maybe while he was talking to Matt about what was weighing him down he'd also talk to his friend about having Sam visit Terry to make sure she wasn't getting sick.

They brought only one shovel when they set out, since a grave wasn't big enough for two people to work on at once, and in any case they'd want to take turns to save their strength. The walk into town was a grim and quiet one, Matt not seeming to want to talk and Trev trying to figure out how to ask uncomfortable questions. They passed the park that served as the new graveyard, which was already full, and continued on to the Thorntons' place less than a block from Matt's house.

They found it eerily deserted, everyone over at the Watsons' paying their respects to Alice. Matt led the way to the back corner of the small lot, where someone had marked a square, and as Trev stood to the side his friend began to dig.

It was a long, slow process. The ground tended to be rocky so close to the mountains, and even if the it was laboriously cleared for a lawn the rocks underneath tended to be left there, sporadically making their way to the surface. Trev wouldn't say it was anywhere near as bad as the digging he'd had to do for the outhouse up at their hideout, where every shovel strike bounced off a stone ranging in size from the length of his finger to bigger than his head and each had to be laboriously dug around, but it was still exhausting work that left Matt making annoyed sounds every minute or so.