Matt nodded and put them out of his mind. He had plenty of his own issues to worry about, and while Rogers and his demands were the most pressing they were far from the only ones.
The place where Lewis had agreed to meet Mr. Gallagher for the trade, going through Chauncey on the radio, wasn’t exactly a refugee camp.
It had started out as a displaced town, similar to new Aspen Hill. But since it was on a main road it had seen a lot of traffic through it, and eventually the military had begun settling refugees there instead of having them pass through. They’d tried to do so without displacing the current residents, but within a matter of days the few hundred people had been swamped by over a thousand refugees.
The result wasn’t pretty. Whatever order the townspeople had tried to impose on their new home had given way to trampled paths meandering between the crude shelters that sprawled in all directions, and a constant haze of dust kicked up by people walking on dirt with no gravel or paving to be seen. That dust coated everyone, leaving them all filthy and defeated looking.
There was a small military presence there, to assist the chaotic camp as well as keep the road clear and safe for travelers. The few soldiers looked harried, nearly as dusty and bedraggled as the people they watched over in spite of whatever discipline they maintained.
Rationally Lewis knew that even a few hundred extra people wouldn’t immediately create a situation like this for Aspen Hill. But it was a chilling warning of what giving an inch might lead to if Rogers decided he could start dumping his problems on the town.
Gallagher’s residence was on the far end of the camp. Lewis decided it would be better to ride through on the road and then circle around and approach it from the outskirts, rather than trying to go straight through that sprawl. They had their weapons with them, of course, and the soldiers kept a decent presence, but in spite of that the place stank of desperation. He’d brought a considerable amount of food in trade goods with him that might tempt trouble, and he wanted in and out as quickly as possible.
Jane and Gutierrez followed his lead, not complaining about pushing on to get away from this place in spite of the hard bike ride they’d just had. Gutierrez was a bit more obvious in his wariness than the rest of them, often riding one-handed to rest his other hand on his sidearm when they passed a potential threat.
Lewis was glad the former soldier had agreed to come along for the ride, now that his simple cabin was completed and he could spare time from gathering food and firewood. Since Gutierrez lived alone and was often away on patrol for Trev he’d put his food in the town storehouse where it could be guarded full time, free of charge thanks to his service to the town. He had a neighbor keep an eye on his cabin and the firewood stored beside it, which might be a target for theft but not as much as food would be. As for the rest of his possessions, he brought them along wherever he went or stored them with his food.
Beyond giving Gutierrez a chance to feel like a part of things, it gave Lewis a chance to get to know him better. In spite of all the fighting side by side they’d done they both tended to be somewhat of loners, in Gutierrez’s case maybe not so much by choice as due to how he’d come to be in town. Either way, if the former soldier was interested in Mary then Lewis wanted to feel out his intentions a bit.
It wasn’t an issue of trust, exactly. Maybe a bit of brotherly overprotectiveness.
Gallagher lived in a crude but carefully built shack along the border where the besieged town ended and the refugee camp began. The man was older, late 40s or early 50s, balding and with the sagging flesh of someone who’d been overweight before an extreme apocalyptic weight loss program.
He had an extensive set of reloading tools to trade, including equipment for all the most common calibers and a few esoteric ones, as well as custom work. He even had a small supply of bullets in several calibers and the lead and jacketing material to make more, as well as his own modest supply of shell casings that Lewis didn’t intend to buy, since he had plenty of his own.
No smokeless powder or primers though, unfortunately; Gallagher had used all of his making rounds to trade for food, before his situation became so desperate he was forced to trade the tools themselves. Lewis felt a bit bad to be the one benefitting from that misfortune, but he’d offered a good deal under the circumstances.
In this case that deal was three months of food for an adult male. Assuming the older man also had his six months from the military, it meant he had enough food to last the winter and then some. Judging by the arsenal Gallagher displayed as he showed them the tools, including a .308 slung over his shoulder, a hefty .50 cal pistol at his hip, and possible evidence of another concealed pistol in a smaller caliber, he wouldn’t have problems either defending what was his or hunting for more food to keep him going.
“It’s a shame to lose all this,” Gallagher said as Lewis looked his equipment over, going on information he’d read and the few reloading videos he’d watched from his hard drives to make his appraisal. From what he could see it was all well used but also lovingly cared for, in good condition under the circumstances. “I’d keep it if I could, hope to get by with whatever cartridges I could make, but I’ve looked everywhere and can’t find powder or primers for love or money. I need the food more at this point.”
Interesting. Either the man hadn’t gotten six months from the military or he was responsible for providing for more than just himself. Either way Lewis could empathize with the food woes; losing three months from his stores would put a tremendous amount of pressure on him to provide for Jane, Mary, and his parents, even with the military’s windfall. But he thought he could manage it, and he’d endure a temporary crunch for the chance at future prosperity.
This opportunity was too good to pass up.
The man was a talker, or maybe he was just keeping his mouth going to ease the sting of losing what had obviously been prized tools of a beloved hobby. “Not that it affects the deal one way or another, but I’d be interested to know if you’ve managed to solve that problem for yourself.”
“No,” Lewis admitted. “I’m drawing a blank on those things too. But I figure it’s better to have some of what I need rather than none.”
“If you say so,” Gallagher said, scratching at his gray fringe of hair. “Without it all you might as well have nothing. Believe me, I know.”
Lewis just shrugged and led the man over to his bike trailer, giving him a chance to look over the food he’d be getting. He’d thought of bringing more than three months, in case Gallagher decided he didn’t like some specific item and demanded a replacement. But on the other hand there was the risk the man would up his price and ask for everything, which outweighed the chance he might walk away from the deal because he’d turned his nose up at something.
It sounded a bit heartless, but Lewis wouldn’t be overly concerned if the other party was slightly unsatisfied by what he’d gotten. He’d carefully counted calories to make sure this was exactly three months, so he’d kept his end of the deal. And he hadn’t used it as an opportunity to fob off all the unhealthy processed junk they’d gotten from the military, either; it was a decent variety, even some of his preserved venison jerky.
That worry proved groundless, however. Gallagher seemed content with the items on offer, and after a handshake to seal the deal they all got to work swapping the trade goods. In fact, the man proved a decent sort and seemed happy to share a lifetime of knowledge from his reloading hobby. Lewis listened intently, and although they were looking at a long ride home he even prevailed on the man to join him, Jane, and Gutierrez for dinner to continue the instruction.