The remaining trucks were driven in to the camp and simply abandoned by the drivers and their escorts. A wild surge and the mad fury with which the refugees attacked the foodstuffs intensified, becoming a wild scramble to board the trucks and loot what ever could be snatched.
The ropes and chains that were retaining some cargo were thrown aside and the grossly over-loaded vehicles rocked violently. The first time it was caused by the cargo pouring over the sides and then by the frantic women, children and men jumping aboard. Their actions ensured that even the cartons that had survived the rough handling and journey were now reduced to battered pulp as the entire consignment fell with a crash that spoilt more of the lightly wrapped food. And then it was used as stepping-stones by people desperate to reach the most valuable canned goods.
“The Russians aren’t bothered about a proper distribution network.” Thorne watched as human anthills formed over every vehicle.
“They don’t need to, “Andrea had watched with contempt. Before joining Revells’ unit the camps had played a large part in her life as an East German Border Guard. “Much of that food will still be circulated, as currency, in a years time. Only fools will eat it.”
The newcomers watched the scene in amazement. Too tired and too frightened to join the throng they were learning the first of many lessons. Bedraggled and weary they never noticed that the few guards just walked off and they were left to their own devices. They milled about, hardly registering the importuning of the few black-marketers who had remained. Most of those poisonous scavengers had dived off to pillage what they could from the trucks. Revell recognised the opening gambits of several black market transactions as cases were opened and property changed hands. As they carried no baggage and their clothes were worthless no one bothered the trio.
“I don’t see any evidence that the Reds are hiding equipment in the camp itself. There’s just that load of infantry and light armour in the forestry plantations.
“But they are up to something.” Andrea had witnessed many strange scenes in the camps but never the Russians handing out food. And on this scale and in this manner it was unheard of.
“This is by far the biggest camp I have ever seen.” Revell had tried an estimate and his best guess was in the region of twenty thousand, a staggering number, four times the size of most other large camps. But it seemed to have been established almost overnight. There were hardly any shelters erected and he couldn’t imagine what the over-crowding and sanitation would be like in the few buildings in the village. Also there didn’t appear to be anywhere the refugees would obtain materials for shelters. It was not quite spring and the nights were cold. The children and the old would be affected first but soon there would be a death toll of hundreds per night. Especially if the weather deteriorated from the mild spell they were fortunately enjoying at present.
And food. There were no crops in the ground to be lifted, no roots or berries and no game. Such a camp was not viable. Within days it would split up and disperse, that was why the Russians were trucking in food. Nothing else would keep the people here, and that would not work for long, not unless the few tons of food were swiftly followed with the materials to create minimal accommodation. These were not hardened Zone dwellers, experienced in scraping a living from the ugliest terrain in the world. They were town and city people, torn from their comforts. In fact few of them seemed to have bought anything useful with them. The open cases he had seen appeared to contain little more than mementos from home, photo albums, favourite ornaments. They should have contained tools, food, waterproof sheets and general survival gear like matches and fishing gear. On reflection Revell knew his estimate of the potential death toll was woefully inadequate. It was going to be thousands every single day for the next few days.
In the distance he saw a small family group clustered around an old man laid on the ground. His face was blue and the females of the family and a couple of children were crying. This was the first of many.
The whole area was a seething mass of unhappy humanity, except for the children. They seemed to be taking it all in their stride, and hunger had not yet made them fractious. It would be a different matter when in the next few hours their parents or guardians ran out of the scant rations they had doubtless brought with them. The children were making friends, playing. It was the adults who appeared to have been crushed by the sudden change in their circumstances. Coalescing into small groups, the women seemed for the most part to be apathetic and even frightened.
“We have to get back I’ve seen enough” Revell had a gut feeling that the Russians brutal but effective efforts in gathering together a vast number of refugees was going to lead to bloodshed on a huge scale. The Russians would not be able to hold on to the camps inmates for long. When the food was gone the refugees would depart, breaking up in to smaller more viable groups. And the mass burials at each dawn would soon scare them away. So whatever the Russians purpose in gathering these poor souls together they were going to have to make effective use of it in the next day or two or the camp would atrophy very quickly.
Some small groups though were seemingly better organised than most with tiny quantities of food and canned drinks being shared out in an orderly fashion.
It was in one of those, an obviously new group, that Revell recognised some one he knew. Her raven hair made her stand out, it was the woman who they had encountered in the underground service area. Rounded up and trucked in she still could not have been here for twenty-four hours yet but she was already organising a flimsy shelter.
. Attempts by other individuals and groups to pilfer plastic sheeting or sticks she countered by waving a nail studded piece of plank. With it he saw her see off a couple of shaven headed young men who tried to muscle in and commandeer her developing shelter. Taking a chance, Revell made sure she noticed him when they walked past. It was a risk, her behaviour marked her out as single-minded and that might extend to her betraying them to the guards.
“Have you deserted?”
He could understand her line of thinking. The Zone was full of men who had deserted, from all armies. There was anger, bordering on contempt in her question.
“No, we still have our transport. Will you do something for me?” From a deep jacket pocket he took out a mobile phone and concealed it between them as he offered it to her. “If the Russians start to move you, will you let me know? Use hot key five.”
She flipped it open and noted the battery held a full charge. “You think they will?”
Revell swept his hand over the listless crown around them. “This camp cannot be sustained. They trucked you here so they want you. They might have followed their usual course and let you and the others die in the city. No, they wanted you, but they will have to employ you fast. Before hunger, illness and lack of facilities forces dispersal.”
“What can you do? Can you get us out of here?”
It was a shrewd question. She could yet give the ‘phone back.
“I doubt it but if you keep the phone I just may be able to do something. I cannot make any promises. It’s a long shot though, just finding you…”
Slowly she pocketed the ‘phone.. “Do you have any idea what the Reds have planned, what they intend doing with us.”
Revell knew there was no point in trying to lie to her. “At this time, no. If I find out, if I am in a position to let you know then I will. That is likely the best I can do.”