In a way it was a shame they couldn’t offer the man a place in Aspen Hill the way they’d invited in other skilled experts. Even though it had meant he’d be facing competition to his own planned business Lewis had actually included a reloading expert on his list of recommended people. The town had ultimately turned the suggestion down as not necessary for immediate survival, not to mention they hadn’t found Gallagher at that point and no one else really fit the bill.
Still, he felt good about the day’s efforts as the three of them offered the older man a final round of handshakes, then rode away with a trailer full of tools and reloading supplies and heads full of imparted wisdom.
He just hoped whatever happened with Rogers wouldn’t make today’s work pointless. They’d see in six days, or closer to five since today was nearly over. It was hard to say whether that was not nearly long enough or an eternity.
It wasn’t a pleasant week for Matt.
Chauncey had no good news for him about Rogers. The man had apparently spent most of his career running logistics in military bases on US soil, with very little combat experience. Even during the recent fight against the blockheads his role had been managing refugees, not leading troops against the enemy. A pencil pusher.
As Catherine put it, a bureaucrat was a bureaucrat no matter which organization they worked for. Generally by the book to the point of being anal retentive, puffing themselves up with petty authority, and often their main source of influence was their ability to put stumbling blocks in the way of people trying to get things done until they got their way on an issue.
From the sound of things Rogers talked a good game and had a decent reputation, but the state of his camp told a different story. The refugees Aspen Hill had taken in had stories to tell of worsening conditions there, and Chauncey provided more scuttlebutt from other sources. Even a few of the veterans who’d joined the town had heard of him, and most of what they’d heard wasn’t great.
Of course it was possible the refugee camp was going to pot for reasons outside of the major’s control, but other camps facing similar issues seemed to be handling them better. Either Rogers had somehow had extraordinarily bad luck and attracted all the troublemakers and malcontents to his camp, as well as every supply and coordination problem imaginable, or more likely the career bureaucrat wasn’t all that good at his job.
None of that information did much for Aspen Hill, though. Especially now that they were apparently on his bad side. Even worse, all of Chauncey’s communications to anyone he could get in contact with confirmed that Rogers could in fact probably do as he threatened; unless they were willing to go up the military chain of command on the issue they’d have to deal with the refugee camp coordinator, and he didn’t seem likely to make that easy.
What was worse, Scott and Ben had worked together to confirm something Matt already knew; that there was no way Aspen Hill could hope to take in a couple hundred mouths to feed without causing immense suffering for the town. Last winter had been crushing, losing them hundreds of people, and while the food situation was looking slightly better now they faced a nuclear winter that would last longer and be far more brutal. If Rogers did force them to take in refugees they’d be looking at a similar death toll in spite of their best efforts.
The major could talk about charity all he liked, but maybe he should spend more time considering reality.
Either way, as the leaders nervously gathered to await his arrival a week after his first visit the mood was grim. Sam had wanted to be there to give Matt her support, but with the chance things might turn violent he’d insisted she stay safe at home. Lewis, Jane, and Gutierrez were there, though, with enough of the returned volunteers mingled in with the crowd to defend everyone if the situation got nasty. He seriously hoped it wouldn’t, but they’d prepared just in case.
Which was why Trev and the defenders were elsewhere.
The mood only got grimmer when the military arrived, about the same time in the morning as last week, in a convoy of half a dozen trucks. Not enough to be bringing in 220 refugees, unless they’d seriously crammed them in, but Matt doubted they were bringing more food, either. Whatever that many vehicles meant was probably bad news.
Rogers hopped out of the lead vehicle to meet the assembled crowd, and several soldiers swarmed out to cover him as if he was expecting trouble. Once again Matt stepped forward alone to meet the man, staring over his shoulder at the trucks.
“What is this, Major?” he asked warily.
The camp coordinator gave him a triumphant look. “Correcting an error. And a legitimate one, in case you were going to accuse me of being vindictive. Our records show that as of the last census your town had 803 people. However, you were given rations for 900. I’ve come to reclaim the surplus for those who truly need it.”
So that was the angle the man planned to take. Matt grit his teeth. Losing that food wouldn’t be as disastrous as taking in the refugees, but it would still mean a lot of suffering and death. “The town currently has 866 residents.”
“As you claim,” Rogers shot back. “I prefer to go by the census.”
The one made who knew how long ago, before they’d taken in the Lincolns and the rescued prisoners who’d come back with Trev and Lewis, let alone the skilled refugees and veterans. But Matt doubted he’d have any success arguing that point when it was being used against him.
He sucked in a sharp breath, trying for patience. “So you intend to take back enough food to feed 97 people for six months, directly out of the mouths of the 63 people we’ve taken in since. Many of whom were veterans or volunteers who risked their lives fighting the blockheads, and were seriously wounded or crippled doing so.”
Rogers hesitated, glancing at his soldiers. They were stony-faced and maintained discipline, but Matt was sure the point he’d made wouldn’t sit well with them. The soldiers he’d had an opportunity to know well were all fiercely loyal to their own, especially those who’d been wounded in combat. They were well aware that but for the grace of God…
But the major didn’t let the argument sway him. “Actually, Mayor Larson, once we take the surplus we’ll be returning with the 220 women and children you were told to prepare for.”
Behind Matt the leaders and onlooking crowd of townspeople broke into outraged cries. Matt himself could hardly believe his ears. The man was doing far worse than they’d feared, hitting them every way he could get away with.
Then disbelief faded, and for a moment fury blacked out Matt’s vision. “You know you’re condemning hundreds of people to die by starvation if you do this. Are you actually petty enough to cause that many deaths just to get back at a town that’s done nothing wrong aside from offend your sensibilities?”
Rogers’s eyes glittered, hinting at more vicious emotions than just smugness and contempt. “Don’t play me, Larson. Your town’s doing well, you can easily handle this.”
Lewis spoke up from the crowd. “You have a career in logistics, Major. You know that’s not true.”
Rather than answering the camp coordinator simply motioned to the trucks, whose engines rumbled to life. “We’ll be correcting the mistake and taking the excess food, now. You needn’t cooperate by assisting us, but don’t get in our way.”
Matt said nothing as the camp coordinator hopped into the passenger seat of the lead vehicle and the small convoy continued up the road into town. After exchanging looks with Lewis and the town leaders, and getting nods in return from most of them, he toggled his headset’s mic.