Matt nodded, and as the two continued on they got down to business.
Chapter Eight
Refugees
It was the morning of the fourth day since they’d volunteered to patrol north of town and Trev was halfway through his fifth shift.
Even with Matt helping out by stepping in for two shifts the nonstop duty was taking its toll, and the only upside Trev could see at the moment was that his legs were basically solid iron at this point. He’d taken a walk into town yesterday to do some errands and talk to Turner, and it had felt like going out to get the mail in comparison to the hiking he was doing on his shifts.
The worst had been the second day, when he’d had to do the morning shift and then after an 8 hour break gone back to do the night shift. The combined walking was almost as much as the entire week he’d done coming down from Orem, with only being in much better shape and carrying only the essentials in his daypack making it possible.
At least if he had to head back north at this point for some reason he’d be much better prepared for the hike now. With just his daypack he could probably even manage the 50 miles in 24 hours Lewis had joked about after his car ran out of gas the day after the attack, although he’d probably be on the verge of collapse after such a brutal hike.
The patrol route he and his cousin had worked out was about an hour’s walk away from the shelter and about 5 miles or a two hour walk from one end to the other and the same time back, meaning they could manage a complete circuit twice a shift. The walk to get to the route was farther than either would’ve preferred considering how much the extra distance lengthened an already lengthy hike, but at that point there was a long narrow hill that branched out from the foothills to the west and tapered east by southeast until it ended at Highway 6.
The highway entirely bypassed the town several miles east of it, meaning most people traveling along the only major road in the area would most likely pass right by without stopping. To increase the chances of that Officer Turner and a few volunteers had followed the highway digging up any signs that mentioned Aspen Hill and bringing them back to town.
Anderson hadn’t been happy with that destruction of public property at all, but like with many other things pragmatism had overruled his objections. Between taking down the signs and the roadblocks just outside of town on the three roads leading to the highway Aspen Hill was now fairly secure. Combined with Lewis and Trev’s patrol to the north, along with a patrol run by a few more neighbors south of town on that border, they’d managed to set up along all routes travelers could easily reach their town by.
Although Trev did hope that when things got more settled Turner would set up a patrol west of town, even if the only ways in from that direction were a few dirt roads leading up to the foothills and the slightly larger and better maintained gravel then dirt road going up Aspen Hill Canyon into the Manti-La Sal range and eventually meeting up with Highway 31 along some fairly terrible roads that required at least an SUV or better yet ATVs to navigate. It wasn’t likely they’d see many people at all coming from that direction, but with millions of people on the move from the Utah and Salt Lake valleys unlikely wasn’t impossible.
For the time being, though, the town’s patrols and roadblocks were as close to a continuous sphere as possible. Or at least as close as Trev and Lewis were willing to get considering the already daunting task. If the Mayor and Turner didn’t add more people to the patrol roster soon then Trev’s days of walking long distances had only just begun, and he could look forward to following the hillside from the highway to the foothills of the mountains and back again twice on each eight hour shift before meeting up with Lewis or Matt at basically the midpoint where the route was closest to the shelter so he could walk home.
They also traded off their single piece of body armor to the person on patrol at that time. Or more accurately Lewis’s body armor: his cousin had talked to him about buying his own, but Trev had decided that would be going overboard and he needed the money for other things. Now he kind of wished he’d taken Lewis up on his offer, mostly because after a few days of being passed around between three people constantly walking long distances the heavy vest was really starting to stink. And since it was always in use they hadn’t had a chance to clean it or even air it out.
In spite of all that the walking was his only real complaint about patrol duty. His cousin might’ve been a lot less happy with the task, preferring to remain at the shelter continuing to do all the chores he wanted to complete before things really went sour, but in a lot of ways Trev actually didn’t mind walking the south side of the hillside just below the west-east spine, out of sight of anyone coming from the north. It was surprisingly peaceful and the weather was cool and slightly breezy, which added to the sunny days made for just about perfect conditions for mild exertion.
And fairly regularly, long before the walking made him tired, he’d pause as part of his duties to poke his head up from behind whatever cover he could find. From those fairly comfortable positions he’d use the scope on his Mini-14, or more often his binoculars, to inspect the hills and valleys to the north for any sign of movement.
So far there hadn’t been any. In fact, over the last few days he’d almost been able to forget he had the unenviable task of stopping anyone who did come and turning them away from the town.
It looked as if his good luck had run out, though, because about halfway along the route going back towards the highway he poked his head up above the hillside behind some sagebrush to see a wisp of smoke rising on top of the next hill north. A quick inspection with his binoculars showed him a small and tidy camp, already broken down, and three men with heavy backpacks picking their way down the hillside roughly in his direction.
Trev watched them with nervous apprehension, not so much worried about what they might do as what he now had to do. Guess it was time to do his job. Taking a deep breath he rose to his feet and tucked his binoculars back in their case at his belt, then checked his 1911 in its underarm holster and his rifle slung on his back. After he was satisfied he could get to them quickly he picked his way down the north side his own hill towards the three men.
Over the last few days he hadn’t had much to do aside from think about any eventual encounters with people he might have. He’d planned ahead to how he’d respond to specific dangerous situations, but more of his time had spent trying to find the best way to tell frightened, desperate people that they needed to go away.
He’d come to the conclusion that the best way to do it was to treat any wanderers as if they were lost and point them to the highway in a way that would take them around Aspen Hill, hopefully without even realizing it was there. That would prevent any potential confrontations in the first place if they really were lost or had no destination in mind.
So as he got within shouting distance he raised a hand in greeting, friendly but at the same time wary for any sign of one of them going for a weapon. “Hey guys!” he called. “Looks like you might be lost. Highway 6 is just a few miles east of here and that should get you wherever you’re going. You can follow this hill behind me right to it.”
The three men kept coming, not aggressively but to make conversation easier, even as they exchanged confused looks. “We’re not lost,” the older man in front called back as he raised his hand to display a handheld GPS. Judging by his build and facial features he was probably the father of the other two. “This is taking us right to Aspen Hill. FETF directed us down there for shelter and aid until things calmed down, even gave us the coordinates.”