If this irate sergeant and the abrupt summons from Grimes was any indication, Ed wasn’t expecting to get any good news about home.
It took closer to ten minutes for everyone to get back to the barrack, and the sergeant was clearly irritated at that. He’d apparently meant his five minute deadline, unreasonable as it was. As soon as Lucas and Carrie showed up the noncom and his two enlisted escorts hurried them all to the headquarters building and inside. Once inside he rushed them through rooms full of curious people and through the waiting room directly into the colonel’s office, barely even pausing to announce their arrival.
Grimes was waiting for them, expression grim. “Gentlemen, ma’am,” he said, rising from his seat to stand behind his desk. “Please, have a seat.”
Somehow the fact that he was inviting them to sit this time, when he’d had them stand during their first visit when he was more kindly disposed towards them, seemed like a bad sign. Ed nervously joined the others in taking seats. After a short, tense silence Lucas opened his mouth, at which point the colonel talked over him.
“It seems as if it’s not only soldiers attempting to carry out their duty that your town likes pointing guns at. They also enjoy menacing unarmed refugees.”
The silence took on a more blank, confused air. “Beg pardon, Colonel?” Scott finally said.
Grimes turned his glare on the man, who hunched slightly. “Yesterday,” the senior officer snapped. “A mob of thugs from Aspen Hill numbering in the hundreds, all heavily armed and geared for a fight, waylaid a refugee convoy on the road.”
Another bewildered silence. “That seems… unlikely,” Lucas said carefully.
“As in you think if it came from Major Rogers it’s a lie?” The colonel was visibly trying to control his anger. “I have reports from two different patrols as well, who intercepted scattered groups of refugees all attesting to being turned back from coming near Aspen Hill as if they were common criminals. An action your town does not have the authority to take.”
Ed frowned, from more than just surprise and dismay. Something was definitely going on, and obviously his town was involved. But a lot of facts were also being left off the table, either because Grimes wasn’t aware of them or for some other reason.
“If I could ask,” he said into the silence. “Would you say this is now justification for personally taking a closer look at the situation, or at least sending someone who will?”
It was his turn to take the brunt of the colonel’s glare. “The situation seems pretty clear to me. At best you people are paranoid nutjobs using excessive force in situations that don’t warrant it, and you seem to be engaged in suspicious activities as well. This mess with the refugees crosses too far over the line. My job is to keep the roads safe for travelers and allow free passage through all areas in this territory. Anyone getting in the way of that is going to have a problem with me.”
“I can assure you, Colonel, there’s a reasonable explanation for what happened,” Lucas said stiffly.
Grimes whirled on him. “Oh? Have you been in contact with your town and heard their side of it, then?”
Lucas hesitated. “Well no,” he admitted. “But this isn’t the way our people behave.”
The senior officer slammed his hands down on the table in disgust. “You’re going to have to do better than that, Mr. Halsson. We’ve got a serious situation that seems to be spiraling out of control, and your town is at the center of it. Now I’m going to give you enough fuel to get home, and I suggest you take it and go get your house in order. My people will be along soon to make sure you are.”
There was an uncomfortable silence as they all stared at him in helpless frustration. “With all due respect,” Ben finally said, “maybe you should take your own advice when it comes to Major Rogers.”
Grimes abruptly stood and loomed over his desk, expression darkening. “I don’t need you to tell me how to do my job. You better believe the next time I hear word of your town restricting the right of travel of US citizens, I’ll send a battalion in to level the place. Now get out.”
Last time Ed had been the one leading them out after a clear dismissal. This time he held his ground, although it wasn’t easy. “You say you’ve heard from Major Rogers, patrols in the area, and testimony from the refugees. Which means you’ve heard every side of the issue but Aspen Hill’s. Last time you told us you’d give us a fair hearing.”
To his credit Grimes at least waited until he finished. Then he thundered “Out!” and pointed a quivering finger at the door.
This time Ed wasted no time joining the others in complying. They didn’t exactly scurry, but they didn’t take their time leaving, either. Once out in the waiting room they hurried through the headquarters building and made a beeline for their mule. Ed was glad they were already carrying all their possessions with them and were ready to go.
True to his word Grimes provided them with fuel. A full tank and an extra five gallon can, too, which was enough to make the trip both ways. Under the circumstances that was pretty generous.
They didn’t leave the camp immediately, since there were a few trade deals to finalize, but within the hour they were driving towards the rising sun, troubled thoughts turned to home and exactly what the blazes was going on there.
“We’ve got more coming in, Trev. Six of them from the north.”
That was Derek Withers, the veteran who’d lost his entire right leg, speaking over the radio where he was taking a shift to give Chauncey a much needed break. Since the retired teacher with his own partially amputated leg could sympathize with the man, he’d taken him under his wing so to speak. So far it seemed to be working well, although Trev secretly suspected Chauncey hadn’t really minded camping out the radio most hours of the day.
Which was neither here nor there.
Trev sighed. He’d been about to sit down to dinner, but it looked like he’d be taking it with him. “They trying to sneak in?” he asked as he grabbed a few strips of jerky and started gathering his gear.
“Emphasis on trying, since Tod saw them coming from a ways off,” Derek replied. He didn’t sound amused though; they’d been through too much of this in the last four days since turning the refugees away.
“All right. Brandon?”
Brandon Shanks was one of the freed prisoners who’d been in Gutierrez’s squad during the fight against the blockheads, and the two had become good friends. At the retired soldier’s recommendation the man was leading one of the morning shift’s roving five-man patrols, which Trev had put together a couple days ago to turn back these small groups of intruders that tried to sneak into Aspen Hill or hang around hassling townspeople in the area. Going by the schedule the older man’s patrol was closest to where the interlopers were coming in.
“No go,” Brandon replied. “Raul’s got us responding to a sighting of a few guys setting up camp west of here, just inside our perimeter. On our way out there now.”
Trev felt a moment of worry, since Deb was part of Brandon’s patrol. At least their task didn’t sound like anything too dangerous, and at Gutierrez’s request Brandon had personally promised Trev he’d look out for her. She should be fine.
Should be. He sighed. “All right, Brandon, be careful. Derek, tell Tod I’ll bring out some people to turn his group back. Have him stay out of sight and report on their movement.”
“He’s on it,” the veteran replied after fifteen or so seconds. By that time Trev was out the door and jogging towards the town hall tent.